no one
tasted my fingers
nobody
knows my pupils
no man was hidden
under my eyelashes
and
no woman
kissed my temple
my lips are still crude
they're waiting
for a sculptor
my body is out of me
beyond the horizon
help me
to come back
no matter
who you are
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
fine read, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , thanx