Things and people that don't love me,
They seem to run the world
Ever since she-
She was the first, threw me away,
Selflessly; but with great love,
So that selfless people must now always hoist me
Up onto the narrow ledge
Of their sometimes friendship.
Things that don't crave my touch surround me;
But lean backwards, away from my contagion.
The universe has never been a simple place:
Animals come near, only wanting to get a bite out of you;
People, to test your defenses
And to see if you can strike back.
And my first blow is always toward self-
But just look-
Now my misshapen form can draw huge crowds!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem