if, to keep this love going,
i, must concoct all the sweet lies,
and you must weave
all the fantasies,
why not my dear?
on this moment of my loneliness
to keep me alive
why not my dear should i accept all your lies?
the truth does not save me
for now
beside you, i contend myself with the
untruthfulness of your kiss
until the next twilight
before the next morning arrives
and then
you must leave
because you are never
mine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Words have that hollow feeling in them.