Losing Glasses | work in progress

translator:  Caveman1

translated poem: Posiałam okulary (Monika J. Kasprzyk) - Moderator: Michał Zabłocki
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Close encounters with moths are good for me
so a week ago I went into my wardrobe
and hung myself in the first row.
Five days dangling nicely,
then I started stinking.
Despite that I attracted with the smell,
I started disintegrating in texbook fahion.
Then moths came shoot! shoot!
(in a way, butterflies anyway)
and started making holes in my belly.
I would have fallen in love
by a hair's breadth from your suit
but I have poor eyesight
without the night-vision device.
Anyway I had lost my glasses
now cannot see sharply
and wait for the lost&found office news.

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