there is this likeness
for shattered pieces falling from the
10th floor of this building
a confetti of feelings
a falling to the ground
a soundless floating
until everything settles
as though a piece can be
gone forever
i have been to the thousand islands
of white sands and mountain peaks
and green and blue waves and
salty breeze clinging to every
lock of my black hair
each island is as beautiful as
it is like the rest segregated
by their own uniqueness of shape
and color
you see it has dawned at me
how pieces can be not miserable
how island live by their own beautiful
silence how suffering can be concealed
in the whiteness of thighs
and legs well rested on beaches
how moon and sun can be beautiful
in their own places
how soft the sea touching upon my feet
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem