Chattering lips of clear glass, meeting in a tinkling as they touch when words are spoken, especially those in anger.
Leaving omens lying along pathways as people move away from each other in darkened moods of confusion, being abused in verbal and emotional connotations.
Walking away, stepping on lips of clear glass that have fallen with angry words upon deaf ears again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem