She is a tension that holds me taut
as a teeter on the verge of love
My legs are bound and my naked eyes
face not my fate but the sky above
I am swinging up and down on this ledge
unable to decide if I should fall.
But regardless of what lies below me
I can tell that with my immobile flesh
I have no chance of living should I let
my yearnings pull me down below safe ground.
I would die with my head facing upwards
and always be reminded of what I have lost.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem