Sprinkling particles falling all around us in a lair of
tender beauty.
Sounding perfectly in unison, having the time of our
lives.
Causing apoplectic frustration, but only for moments
at a time.
Severing the past with sharpened melodies, holding
tightly to past behaviors.
Measuring the time between moments of lifetimes, never
actually figuring it out, because the right equation
can't be found
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem