love is rich with both honey and venom.
I collected many broken hearts over the years.
sat them in my glass jars of broken dreams,
watched them shader to millions of pieces.
Only to come up empty-handed
and with an empty heart.
My keepsake box forever locked,
not a soul mate in sight with a key.
Nonetheless I'm left with
my bookshelf of
unwanted love affairs,
and unwanted dreams.
As always
love came on a whisper,
only to fly away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem