were a
judas
little lie
like a why
you couldn’t
grip.
you slipped, little
mad dress you
wore like
a dance.
all fair of
faith and
smashed smell
whiskey breath
brown bread
broken, you
wish you could taste
the last
supper
we are
all, sometimes,
a lie
spilled from
a cup.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem