What light do we channel
In our final goodnight
what esoteric journeys
can we dream, despite?
Cause it's the tight canvas
helps the kite take flight
all-must-be taught
or else it's fraught.
To break like a candle and wick
in the air, not into light.
But altogether into something,
more sallow than a hollow goodnight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem