This poem, was written
in my mother tongue-
(I didn't want to translate it)
all these languages,
are like men whose
body I hide under
when my needs change-
for every occasion
another one
finally finding
beauty in all this madness,
I felt the need
to give something to you
a gift so tender-
you're unable to hold it
between your hands
like the nights you spend
crying over an ex lover
like giving you back
all the days you spent
worrying over temporary situations
like all the months
you hated yourself for not trying
like this poem
this thought
