when i dream of butterflies
immigrating to an island
you dream of fish hiding in
the living corals
when i speak about romance
how people fall in love
you butt in saying love is
irrelevant and you talk of
war and the reasons why so
many children die, how novels
write themselves in chaos and
death and sad separations
we realize we do not fare out
in a synchronized journey
my north is your south and
my sky happens to be your sea
i grieve for this and then you
laugh, i say i am leaving for good
and you close a door and stay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem