I cannot see past the intersection where we met,
where i am twenty years prettier and always laughing,
where the shops are boarded up with our confrontation and horrible cursed words.
I cannot see and only stand at the turning between past and present, wanting to lose myself in the marks in the stone.
But surface to the three children, two bedroom house,
and walk away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem