Swim awhile
In stillness
Word above
Ears below
Distortions are
Much easier
Above, the world still turns
But here all seems slower
Drowned out into
Peaceful monotones
Sleep-like day dreams
Like syrup congeal.
Lay here
In scalding hot suspension
Pruned fingers mark
Our time to return
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem