i touch your face
i ask you questions
rooting down to the kiss
if you really like it
too
am i the only one remembering it?
was i the only one who likes its taste?
did you fake the smile
hiding in your silence?
is silence a suffering inside you?
i got a nod and it was enough for me
to stop loving you
i myself doubt love. I doubt if i love
you. Was it just my loneliness which
made you mine? a property, a thing to use.
a chattel of the roman period.
my temporary winter is gone.
comes spring with all the flowers and the
the butterflies
comes now the world of colors
and scents
and you have become one of those
insignificant choices that i leave
on the grass
the last bit of the cone
the wrapper of my burger
the tissue that i wipe my face with
to dry my sweat
and to keep me from foul smell
i regain my silence now
as i walk away not even wanting to remember you
i could not hate myself that long
got to go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem