you see
i burn to the fire
of your
tongue
i realize
that paper self
that
i am
it is not that
thick
and reliable
i am light
and
not safe even
during those
rainy days
i am not afraid
to burn
i guess it is my nature
and so
try it
speak, speak some more
give me that fire
those balls of fire
that must perfect my nature
my smoke is
a beautiful fog on top
of those mountains
some sleep on the
trees
without so much
hassle
when i turn to
ash
perhaps that will just
be enough
for you
to finally shut up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem