Mended
shattering of a mirror
descends bit by bit,
plucking each shred,
pouring anesthetics onto
the wound,
wrapping it in bandages, coated in
antibacterial ointment.
hoping for a speedy recovery,
making sure it is properly
tended to,
not to leave a scar,
but only in mind,
scattered across the room,
watching your every step,
protecting the flesh of the
hands and feet,
cautiously, sweeping the floor,
gathering the broken pieces.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem