Writing less, gradually
Wanting to act as well
anonymously being
heard and read
nothing else for me
please no incense
with plumes, I’m not sharing
anything that’s mine, I only give
mirror images, life
fed, cherished
and let go, everything
I am, volatile and anew
after it has passed away
nothing is mine
only my birthday
with this thought
Amsterdam, April 17th, 2018
Poem 1719
Translation of poem 1718 (April 17th, 2018)
Collection The light of words
