We wear our emotions all over our bodies.
Sometimes it’s a poor fit... revealing too much.
She could see the fear in me. She was leaving us.
“I’ll be back, ” she purred assuringly.
“Remember the sound of my voice in you heart...
each beat will be a soft remembrance from me.'
It’s true, I was lost... lost in her broken promise...
starving on fading memories.
Well, I survived her promise... broken my fast.
It’s just that, you know, my heart still whispers
to me from time to time...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a lovely poem showing even a sad whisper filtered through memory can nourish creativity