Underneth the weight of an 8 hour
day that tolls like iron bells,
thoughts of you echoing through the uneven curves
of a sad smile,
where our ghosts dance the
ups and downs of love,
funerals already taking place
two bodies making love on the pyre
of the death that is already
emminent
even as we rise to the morning sun
n make each other believe
it is real...................
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem