In the Kingdom of barks
silence is a invertebrate traveler
slain-wing of a dragon-fly
gripped in dried up sauce,
dragged home by red ants
for supper and delight.
I wake each night - hands crawling
over my crumpled bed -
fear peeing in sleep,
the nuances of those dreams
where I always remain naked,
ambivalent about places to hide,
as if my silence is a thief.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem