between our realities
are the waters of privacy
and for one who does not flow
like what others do
the ripples of misunderstanding
begin to behave as whirlpools
in our minds
the banks of the rivers are far
and we who desire the harmony
of the clouds and their mirrors
begin to build the bridges of words
and symbols
between us now is this poem
and if you have been with me
upon the graces of time and
the courtesy of space
there could have been more to
this poem, and to those words
because between the emptiness
of air, something like a beating heart
a warm hug could have done better.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem