a moonache levitates
on blue lake
you shot me at close range
predictable encounter
the whole truth had plunged
between two eyes
self flagellation
of the waves on beach
i was walking on marigolds
your body becomes a flute
when i was writing an epilogue
on the life of a gold leaf
it was raining on the rose
like gnawing illicit drops
on the upper lip of a virgin
profound theme...well worded verses.....fabulous metaphors......great work..10++++++
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
fabulous indeed and spectacular write