She perhaps wanted something sensational
Something that was deeply nonexistent
In any walk she headed ahead, she missed it.
Accidental aches partly hurt her the most.
She could either be a poem full of dancing flowers
Or she could be a library full of existentialist series of books. Whatever...
She was seriously superior to the traditional train of taboos.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem