inside my chest
~write that in your appointments ~
once, has lived an open door
at nights and in the coming and going of our moons
i ran, in hurry, closing your hours
losing a bit of my taste
my salt stayed in my first rhyme
back~ there~
~mark that in your daily book~
and the moon on top and down the door
ajar, a silver light comes in
hours is running out
and I smile ~now totally sweet~ of
all these records on your calendar
this is absolutely different than the others...love it....very promising indeed..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful write.liked it.