recklessly
i hit my glass of
water with the
hand of the
jacket that i
am wearing as
i am leaving
and you shall
hear the sound
of glass shattering
into pieces on
the porcelain floor.
and i tell you,
go back to bed,
it is nothing.
i will meet the
sun at six and
walk the earth
till seven.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem