Postage stamps cling to folded hands clenching
With power to turn empty resignations yearning
Because the sight of you shrinking into her arms
Makes the postman hide behind soft petals of ash
Perhaps someone should be alarmed
The vulnerable insects present the light side of faith
The indifferent sparrows return to their place
Because the thought of you placed between her gnashing jaws
Makes the postman validate the certain pain that he felt
If he felt anything at all
Scissors can’t cut through the rust you’ve sustained
And I beg from him a simple reply of refrains
Because the thought of never knowing the hue of your thoughts
Makes the postman curl into tear-stained leather
Wondering if he loved or fought
I am the shifter and I scrape at the bottom
The carpet screaming from abuse of autumn
Because the thought of her lips now replacing mine
Makes the postman livid with his absence
All he wanted was a reply
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem