did I mention how I love grey woollen sweaters?
but not on me
I always picture them on you
in the autumn, streets wet from rain
yet sunny
you smile dazzlingly, opening your arms
and pulling me near
in the cool fall air
always, I imagine us in London
where it is always raining
but at that moment, it is shining
because you are there
hugging me close, to your grey sweatered chest
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem