All sins may be named virtuous.
Sometimes to etch a touch into skin
Is the only way to truly repent.
The first pain is quick and sharp
But dirty revolutions are formed,
And it all feels like dying and being reborn.
Dark and sensitive, totally perfect. I love this poem of frustration and pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That first stanza does it for me, its brief but it conveys complete impact of what sounds like pain layerd with an element of enlightened cynicism. Great stuff