Deft is you
Deft are your fondles
Deft is your palm
Adroit, your fingers,
In making love to me
Posthumously
Lone is me
Yet lone is not
Your fingers are there
Yet fingers are not
Instead there are gloves
Homespun
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow! ! ! wonderful..... each stanza is perfect in texture... with few silk you crafted a gorgeous outfit. Adroit, your fingers, In making love to me Posthumously........... when u say ' posthumously' it jumps into another heights that shows the poetical beauty, another dimension of an art. keeo writing dear Nikhail.........rgrds/salu