her skin was like a pressurized
diving suit.her heart echoes
, testing, one, two, three.testing
, one, two, three.do we have a
connection, or is this women the
walking dead.life she thinks
is like a smorgasbord, always
expanding, and exploring,
tring to get the last word.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this poem is about my mother....................................she died of cancer...