divided precisely in 2 halves
the empty as neatly empty as the fullness of the filled half
all the water in the full part cant make up for the emptiness in the 2nd half
as a rule, empty takes its place over the filled half
and each time fluid attempts an escape through the miserable vacuum
the vacuum wins a lil more space...
u try n look for an angle
perhaps a settlement
but each time a new line is drawn
the cut is always a precise half
no party accepts any compromise...
I enjoy the way your lines lead into others and the fitting way they follow one after another..everything in its perfect time..an ordered soul, I glimpse behind of these..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Its because jealousy sparks everywhere and competition squeezes and simulates a plain glass into the geometry of a cross-a divider of ideas and perhaps everything.Conceptualized well..