Your words were streaks of algae
in my heart
a bloated, rotting Leviathan
you killed before the clock of sea could claim its scales
it is ugly because you have ceased to be
and it rots because you have ceased to die alone
as i must and shall
like a frayed, soggy boat
under the swells of love and ocean green
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem