'Later, love...'
she said
but Death
stole her voice.
So that, that later
never arrived
& I cry always
for the later
that never
became a now.
What might have been? Tender! Reminds me of one I wrote, Tuesday Never Came...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very short, but concentrated sadness; it leaves the salty taste of a tear, little one piece but heavy and salty