Uninvited guests draw between
The cavernous fissures of the sheets Materializing without a due notice
Around paperback novels on the shelves
Cobwebs assemble on the drapes
Building audiences between the sills
As silent armies erupt out of focus
Like the remnants of a ghost town
Particles disperse through the air
As thousands of escaping dead tears
Looking to squat for another dry surface
To evade the blows of the vacuum
The mummified snow disappears
As a new aura rises with zeal
My bedroom forgets entropies profit
But I slowly rise into the dust
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dust is such a pest. And so invasive. Spend lots of time attending it that it doesn't beseige us.