your double-edged caress cuts open affection
lays it on an autopsy table
a lashing is exposed a tirade
an unwanted groping like snakebites scalds
impetigines
you knuckle under your rebellion now
a mudlark sighs a twilight
in a garbage-gusto
lambent tortures of nails
gleaning salvaging the skin and its cloud-akin texture
perhaps the night will accommodate
and schlep the wails
to a tote-sorry slap-happy punch-drunk future
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem