You are making flares
Behind the tenderness of my eyeballs,
I’m invoking tornado
To show you the bursting of thunder into pieces,
That dissolve like meteors
Over the natural layers of our bodies.
And this is how fire takes birth.
No twirling of hands on a wooden plate,
Just some sawdust of desire
To initiate the eruption of Kilimanjaro,
Inside the red veins of our contracted flesh.
so full of fiery passion pity I'm too old for all that yhanks-10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderful and expressive poem shared with thought of time. Very amazing sharing done.10