is this poem about me, what
were you thinking of, whom
were you thinking of when you
wrote these words out, it
wasn’t you this time girl.
not this time nor the last time
I sat down to write was it your
face that came to mind but the
look of the sky before the thunder
comes and chases out the sun
was what came to these eyes
as well as the way you looked at me
when you told me you loved me
but couldn’t and I loved you but
couldn’t just the same and it was
all the same for awhile as you
got dressed and made your face up
into a doll of girl of a woman of a
mannequin and addressed the world
with that tart smile of yours,
what can I say but it is still you that I think
of sometimes at night even though
I haven’t wanted to, this poem
is about you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem