on that precise moment
you open your heart, your stomach
your head,
and then you spread everything
before them
on the breakfast table
the usual broken heart
with perforations
the rotten intestines
the rusty thoughts
some cuts on your hands
wounds of the spirit
and then you challenged
each one' 'Now, judge me! '
and they all left
slowly one by one
toward the door
all of them
i know
has remembered
the old story
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem