Epiphanies underneath the windows
Of society,
Where the little ferries pollinate quite
Readily:
Making love to the browned stems of
The flowers and their counterparts
Alike:
Their pornography in the bird baths as in
The sadomasochism
Of the wayward kite:
How I love you there looking out at the
Things I could not see,
Unlike anything else in the word,
As you made love in the pill bugs and
The broken ivy
Stemming across the shingles underneath me:
As you made love so small in your
Haunts, but exuberant- experiencing the
Honey of every bee’s sting,
Dripping with diamonds: what I could not
Say for you,
Are the words collected in tears or in
The fonts of blind men,
But I am sure that you are- underneath the
Rearing of cats,
Laying like dew in the fans of the yard,
The roe of wonder lust colonizing around you
Every time the sunshine chooses to yawn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem