uncountable clouds of smoke,
congregate around the yellow ceiling,
hallowing there victims.
in the uncomfortable yet reasuring,
silence of our conversation,
we floated on,
joining different parties.
bieng the younger I mingled with the
smoother freckled faces,
offering secret sarcastic smirks,
from toilet bound talk.
Being indifferent is a lonely job.
My companion focuses on unstreched flesh,
his wife cannot compete.
As each car light envades through the
gold rimmed, name engraved window,
our observant disturbing faces are spotted.
above, even the smoke clouds are aware,
they too decide to move on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem