Do you share the bed
with a perceived lover in illicit
borders?
A pink gestation
of a thought? Hands
holding a naked truth?
The winds were harsh, cold
and persuasive. And lake was
sending an obscene invitation.
You were ready to make
a jump, ending the speculation.
I speak alone -
in the arguments with
sooty bust of the sky.
Moon has no other name.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
As it is a poem about the nature, what is there to hide! very beautiful!