'I can shut the door, '
I offered.
'Don't. I like the blue, '
she said.
I wrapped my fingers around her hipbone
and watched her chest rise and fall
as she blew warm air through bright red lips.
I had never seen her so down
but she kept giving
herself
to myself
and to others.
It hurt me
but it shouldn't have
and it wasn't supposed to.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderfully written piece, Charles. Thanks