There's a mineshaft in my throat
I fall down from my room
sit like a toad
trapped in a bubble of stone
it's quiet here
so quiet I can hear my dreams
rustle like dead leaves
I shriek
there's a mineshaft in my throat
a tongue of sharp forged metal
and layers of jet black ore for years
I hew at it with short fierce strokes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem