I still feel that echo in darkness;
it pulls me down,
it draws me near,
leaves me wondering why I still come around
when I already know what lies here.
why do I bind myself to you?
a narcissus
like any other,
waiting for a chance
to strip me of the flight
that defines me,
that brought you here.
of course you're only echoing
the one that gave you a name,
the one who wrote the script
that made you the same.
why aren't you new,
why aren't you different?
I ask you for affection
because the effect on me
of your cold, motionless front
is anything but numbing.
you never were autonomous;
no different
than any lover,
looking for yourself
by becoming the same
as the others.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem