soon i shall break the news
about a failure
about scattered selves
like litters of the city after
a rally of the
oppressed or who think they are
i shall give the details
how the famous man died on top of his
chosen luxuries
you know him well
and you love him still
shall i see tears about to fall from your eyes?
i expect you will enumerate all the excuses
and i will pretend that i am convinced
that i sympathize with you
that i am after all a kind man
i have long released you from my hold
but i shall not rejoice over this
did you see stones inside my heart?
i have learned the art of making faces disappear
baking my heart until it assumes the core
of steel
you see
if you only care, you should have known
you were never mine
as i was never yours
i have already finished my own house
and it stands firm beside the vultures in the arid desert...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem