On the bus across from me
sits a handsome dude
a Japanese letter tattooed on his neck
Why don't you get a tattoo as well
says my brain
a dragon or a seagull or a unicorn
will endow you with a sexy youthful look
even though it is rather late
And perhaps you're tattooed already
my brain continues
a secret tattoo
that sees but is not seen
which at one time was commonplace in your family
a row of blue digits
a number on the extermination line
For on this summer morning
you are on the extermination line
considering your age
your state of mind
And a conciliatory thought comes—
it is the cell phone number of a lover,
long lost in the distance,
carved on my shoulder, on my arm, on the tablet of my heart
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem