On the wishing tree
Hang lips, a moustache, three hearts
Twirling in the breeze
A cloud like a fat cigar goes puffing off
To nowhere
On a Yesterday’s girlfriend
Old Loves are tattooed like graffiti
Skin parchment memoirs
Peeling around the edges
Unwelcome as the afterwhiff
Of a fart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem