I hid you away
in an attic
a photograph
amongst photographs
in an album
amongst albums
in a trunk
visited only by cobwebs
and the squeaks
of mice
I had remembered
to forget you
forgotten to
remember you
but the heart trap
of memory
goes
snap
and I am
again
an Alice
in her own tears
always drowning
in the same room
feeding my ghosts
to the sun
as eagerly
it laps them up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem