it is when you bare it
all that
i do not see anything
anymore
and so i go back to
your way of teasing my senses
piece by piece
as you put again the puzzle back
like a tree putting back its
leaves
regaining its crown back
to its beauty of
being dressed
as decent as hills being dressed
to the regal greenness of
grass
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem