Secret is corrosive
Tricia writes
She, an immigrant
Is me
As is he
With cockroach
We have secrets that many don't
Keeping our inner to ourselves
We suffer
Revelation can be shame
And now; a writer
She says:
"Secret is corrosive, let your inside be
On the rope in the sun; laundry"
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem