as you mold the clay
to make a face out me
you need to put water
and regroup all those
elements of fire and
air and earth
that refer to myself:
some stories and
answers to what i am
and from where i am
to where i am heading
to where shall i end
because you are my creator
and i am your mere dust
and for all things queer
and weird, My Lord, I must abide.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem