Only at full moon
Deathly pale
Moonlight crashes like crystal milk, shatters on the tide and
Make holes in the water to see below where
The madness of flies and saints lay
On an altar bathed in alabaster light
Her shadow remains a stain
Her perfume a shadow of scent that
Fades like memory
Only in this sullen moment
When quiet is sound can
True motion be felt
Old pictures seem to move on the walls
In my bones
Whispers, moans and
Thoughts like nervous monkeys
Chitter and jump
Close my eyes and I see her
Remembering I forget
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem