if you read my poems
at the Cafe
i will be there to
listen
attentively,
do not ask me to
read
i won't
i cannot be my own
surgeon to my sickness
i stopped cutting my
own hair
i button my shirt
i zipped my pants
and then i sing a song
to the hills.
away from all of you
i was once a black bird
now that you are
inviting me back to
this cafe
i am afraid i could be
another ant again
i am small but i bite
i bite even if i die
for once.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem