So much to think
of infidelity at the edge of
yesteryear living in a broken home.
All my poetry comes
out to recite elegy for the unspoken
tragedy. It was tumultuous..
Skeletons start working.
Was it dysmorphia? To revive the
narcissism? I drop the blood.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful.... beautiful poem dear poet. Top score