the pebble that you have
collected from the shore
last spring
breathes like a tick
the paper clip that lays on your
study table
begins to
move like a maggot
something is more beautiful than
this
sensitivity widens
imagination
paving more pathways to
the colored world
of dreams
the blank paper begins to have
a face
shaping a mouth
a tongue
that shapes a smile for you
the table becomes the sea
where sailboats take its long journey
nothing
no one falls at the edge
they just fade.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem