i look down my feet
passing by my navel
i am naked
i touch the old flower of my
youth
with the same
stunted fingers
i wish i am as warm
as the palm of your
past
i am not disappointed
i am real
i feel the coldness of a
stem
the hopelessness
of a rock
i know the day is short
and so i throw away pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem