Why do I want what I am afraid of?
Has carpe diem sent me turning to fear for joy?
Or is fear good?
Or is joy worth dying for?
I want the one with the soft skin and sweet smile who will always be true and love me tender.
I fear the restlessness of her radius when her radiance rocks my world.
Am I too young? Too innocent? Too immature for a grown woman?
Is my mother right that I just have to wait?
Or am I to take her? To save her? To hold her in my arms where she belongs?
How I want to approach. To talk. To dance. To walk. To kiss. To touch her skin to mine.
But do I need it?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem