Rushing through writing in explicit rhythms of rapid
tempos situated in music.
Going into depths of self, looking away from life,
instead, grasping the reins of my black stallion.
Riding into the darkest nights, not looking back or
forward only down inside of myself so I can find some
of what is left of me.
(4? 17 p.m. - 2/24/14)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem