Hesitation
How heavy is this lake, I ask myself, it
tastes of blandness, tepid too; dust on
its surface, like the glass of water -on
the kitchen table -that should have been
drunk with the forgotten pill…and now,
nine month later, I will not go into that.
I swim to the middle of the lake where
a stone sticks out of the water, had I been
in a dingy, a hazy day, I could have hit
the mini reef. Did she forget to take that
pill? Tired arms, a swift breeze cools
the water, too cold now to drown oneself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem