it is when there are butterflies in my belly
that my hands become pens
and when all these butterflies have flown away
all the words retreat in the sockets of my eyes
i become blind with all these thoughts
i am neither myself nor yours. I am no one now.
I am nowhere too. I am lost and cannot be found.
Asleep, just tired asleep in my dark room.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem