the way things are going to be running smooth is to write without a comma or even a period which we hate most since it signals death
as comma signals sleep
or rest
the way we want things to be eternal to sound like a gust of air
passing by the tips of our hair
the way where we think we are going
into weightlessness
that subtlety of language perfecting itself into
nonspeaking
because a touch
or even a glimpse
or just a sigh
or the final closing of
our eyes
will do.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem