My crimson red wrath sloshes against
The crust of my words.
Like lava beating against its earthy bindings.
Deep with acidity, towering might
That stifles each morsel of truth you feed me.
In a moment the bridge of our arms grasped at the elbow, thins.
Muscles flex as our fingers in a frenzy skitter over the surface,
Clutching desperately higher and higher.
Climbing deeper into the nonexistent depth of an hour.
Time itself consuming a bond timeless.
Warmth itself lends its breath.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem