Why
do you want to slip me
through the trees -
so that eyebrows
tangle,
legs
splinter,
to mirror yourself
in my skin -
soap, that washes
away cracks,
angles and hours of yours,
to suck the water
of light from my
eye.
Translation: 2006, Elisa Biagini
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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