Taste Of Symbolism Poem by C.D. Xiang
Taste Of Symbolism
Sauntering through a smoggy sea
scrubby sand sticks to my sweaty skin in salt.
A raving blast of sultry wind
suffocates my dusty countenace
and stuffs my soaking eyes with soil.
And I snort.
My dry tongue strangles in a ruby mouth
and I swallow the crumbled bits of a cracked palate.
So I collapse.
My nose is glued
with the smelling stench
of a foul-faced earth.
I behold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/27/2026 12:00:22 PM # rel_20260826T082754Z_99b456e
