The only thing left over to remind you of last night
Is the syrupy sadness in the last of your bottles.
See if you can force it past your throat,
Into your stomach, so it can sit there,
Refusing to be degraded by acid,
Lumping together to remind you why you were so alone.
And the remnants of your face have fallen to the floor.
And they are too thick for the suction to pick them up.
So go around now, with no features,
A smooth blankness canvases your head,
Because your emotions fell out with your tears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
smooth blank canvas.. use it to your benefit. care, Goldy.