i believe you
whatever you say is real
longing for your sweet hints
drops of honey
amber sticky tears
that my tongue
can't touch
the scent
of the space
of the time
left to fill
in between
the moment
our stars collide
your wooden
practical
moody
treasure
in which direction
are your eyes pointing
my time underground
is running out
can you read my voice?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem