Wherever you are,
Do you wonder?
I do.
In a twilight bedroom, when the soft summer wind
Stirs thoughts like discarded papers,
I remember through finger blotched photographs,
Through names who were part of me once.
Where are you now?
Press a hand to glass,
And it will never break to open the sky.
I did love you, I'm sure I did.
Yes, it could not have been otherwise.
Yet, I am expected to forget you,
Like throwing stones into a sea,
And lose you for good.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem