i am lost.
please find me.
i am like the tennis ball that you throw away
from the comfort of your strong hands
into the darkness of the night
tomorrow morning
before the sun rises with a new promise
dusk shall find me
your hands shall turn to ash and i shall be the rain
to wash you away.
farther farther to the river and to the sea to the sunless horizon.
my heart is ready for this calamity of forgetting.
with air as balm, i shall be gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem