five brown wrinkled fingers
coming out from an arm of age
ten in all
when in loneliness i lay down on a rock
and count the years
and months
and the toes are added and the tongue
forms a word from my thorax
i
love
myself
that is the declaration of my being
i stand and raise my arms to embrace the
morning sun
i look down
and see a worm
singing
its loneliness too
the leaves are falling
like my hair
the fingernails demand
the cutting of extremes
the silence of the night
sews my lips
seals my mouth
i remember mama
and i take an old picture where she is too young
and beautiful
things are always moving like an age
like a helpless wrinkle
what do i learn from this world:
nihilist, i leave everything as is
no explanations
just a signal that we are moving forward
and there shall be stopping
until the last breath is
given
off.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem