Bon Giorno Poem by Lindsay Elise
Bon Giorno
He opens his hands,
Lets the moths fly erratically
About in my stomach.
They tremble unconsciously,
Make me shiver.
Some loose their way and
I feel them in my heart-
My four-chambered heart,
My heart that aches with the longing
And beats with the fluttering moths.
He released them from his finger-cage,
Let them go wild in my soul,
Just by catching my eye,
Just by saying hello.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 6:57:22 PM # 1.0.0.1119
