Simple.
Steps, but flying
further into falling
down
Steps ever onward, down, up,
left, right,
wrong
and every other direction this might chase.
I know not its face,
but its structure-
not unfamiliar to my heart.
Alas, my eyes
so easily lose their way
in attempts to chart
this experience
as some... fertile landscape,
yielding opportunity-like
hesitation so
constantly regifts itself
into my trembling hands...
I am fearful, firstly, and cautious-
Withholding, like
my lips:
forever
neglecting
the silence hanging
between them and your own.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem