The first time in her apartment
After her death,
I could still smell her perfume
And feel her breath.
I had returned for a photograph
Of the two of us
Taken at the amusement park
After a day of lingering in her arms.
For me, love and joy
Have always been comparatively brief
Beside the loneliness and grief
That have navigated most of my existence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem