These faces framed
hanging in the halls of my head
sway with door slam breezes
These glass faces
veiled in corridor echoes
stir my nakedness
How they seize the heart
These faces arouse my impatience for gifts of love
unrelenting entangled in bedsheets
My love for a face for me so special
Myself with no shame whips me ceremoniously
If a ringed finger was not all that seemed
I could blot winter hours bleeding with religious cloth
To resurrect from a shouldered tomb
this love - my love
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem