It is your face
That engages me most tautly;
I am strung
To your skin
And the collaboration of your nose, eyes, lips and hair,
The silhouette of your dark features
By the even darker descent of your Indian lush
hair,
Languid and loose to your shoulders
Like melancholy grace
that is inanimate
yet softly exotic
In the pale face of my own
being,
hushed intrigue,
It is engaging
and intoxicant
And I know you may not agree
To say that you are so, so beautiful,
But I see
that you are
As you gently lie wake beside me
By the drag of sleep
And subtle spoken contentedness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem