Those eyes
Those deep, intoxicating eyes
that hold so much, yet disclose too little
That laughter
That crystal, ringing laughter
welling up from within that beautiful soul
Those beats
Those pulsing beats of the fingertips
music seeping into my skin, into my very core
drowning my will in their lethal cadence
What bitter existence and
what sweet, sweet death for this tortured soul
With every smile or every laugh
with every echo of a beat
or every riffle of the eyes
I trip on my own girds
and betray my own heart
Bit by bit, I fall apart
breaking into a million confused pieces
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem