there is something
incomplete in a bird song
a space hangs
on the ceiling
an emptiness goes with
us
in the middle of the
crowded mall
something is missing
no matter how
edges meet and try
to complete
themselves with a
filling
like some sealant in
wood or metal
it is still you
that makes me
feel incomplete
all these years.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem