Nipple

steam rising out of earth's mouth
all alone hungry for some comfort
i draw the curtains
and sentence my soul to prison
covering all my pores with the cold
that within and that in my room
it has no company
but the cigarette smoke
an illusion feeding us since the latest deluge
i crawl onto the computer screen
i have yet to learn how to walk on fingertips
i crawl in search of a poem
in search of a god
that would unclog my pores like hot sweat
i crawl and crawl until my knees and elbows are worn out
until i am asleep with one of the keyboard letters
tightly between my lips like a mother's nipple

Translated by Paul Abucean
Translation source:
http://www.scribd.com/doc/30155120/Djamal-Mahmoud-Nipple