there is nothing
too serious about this
game of
adding life to
some tired
cells by way of
simply smiling at the mirror
seeing a face that you really own and
then affirming what you are and
will always be
or
trying to change the color of your hair
or
cutting your fingernails
to make you
feel clean
and perhaps whole again
like a noun
connecting to the nearest verb
to tell
another chapter of your
story
that perhaps may
interest
those who are
shedding off days like
dirt on their
skin
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem