We always lose the end
of the Sellotape. Always.
It is see-through and soulless,
and clingy! Oh! So sticky and wrapping
itself, around
objects, fingers and feelings.
We always lose the end
of the Sellotape. Always.
Not because our fingernails are not
sharp enough to find it.
But because our minds become too
sharp, to want to.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem