Those final words are spat and hissed
as I set fire to the stupid list
Of all the things I thought I missed
the game we played; stick or twist
and all those empty wishes wished
for you to return out of the mist
and rekiss all those kisses kissed
but not the ones you blew with your
fist.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem