With a whiff of plums, I wake
covered by George Washington's fatigues;
submerged in cherry blossoms,
unwanted sex.
Covered by George Washington's fatigues,
I lie on the floor, processing
unwanted sex.
After the fog of two parties,
I lie on the floor, processing:
I do not know where I am.
After the fog of two parties,
I do not feel liberated.
I do not know where I am
or remember how I got here.
I do not feel liberated.
I am too exhausted to feel
or remember how I got here.
Do not waste your declarations.
I am too exhausted to feel;
I am too exhausted to absolve you.
Do not waste your declarations.
Submerged in cherry blossoms,
I am too exhausted to absolve you.
With a whiff of plums, I wake…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem