you smell like war,
like gunpowder,
flesh searing screams.
i smell like grieving,
like ashes, and
dirt on the shovel.
you sound like hunger,
and homelessness,
and vomit stained lips.
i sound like the soup
that simmers, like the
blanket wrapped...
you taste like bitterness,
the lonliness of alone.
i taste like the hand that fits,
the shadow of the body near...
or am i wrong?
could it be the other way around?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem, one that makes you think.