there is always a space
between all
these pressures
an opening
a vent
where you rise up
and breathe
you love air
but you miss the vacuum
where you fit
and satisfy your lust for
verisimilitude
no word
no words
in here we do things
without words
breathe: exhale inhale
live life
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem