I dreamed
of being free in my own heart
without the need of searching
for something that belonged to you
in other's poems, or worst
in my poems.
So I stared by wiping my cheeks, from tears
and my lips, from your lipstick
because I had heard that you were already moving on.
I had to move on too, I wasn't
going to die without you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem