as i write this
i put aside a red apple which i just bit
on a hard bound book
beside a calendar of my
vacation trips for the
coming months,
the book is political
confronting the state about
some of its abuses
the apple appears
incomplete without my hand
the fingers are groping for
the keys
for instance, the key for
our liberation
the words seem to be at war
against each other
i am concerned about your today and so.
we are talking now.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem