Salt

11 3 2
                                    


Salt on your neck,
scent of your sweat.

Your scent sticks
to my sheets like gum.

And one word sticks out
between waking and dreaming.

I thought I would lose you,
thought of your sweat.

In the light, I stayed awake,
brushing the salt off my lashes.

Fields of AsphodelHikayelerin yaşadığı yer. Şimdi keşfedin