it is the hush
and the slight touch on my hand
on top of yours,
the sweat on my
belly,
the kiss and not
the unsaid
goodbye
i agree, it is not the word
that matters,
it is the memory that
haunts us both
still,
stuck on the scene
one afternoon on that Sunday
when they
were all not there
just the two of us
enjoying
each others'
mystery.
we were too young then
we thought we understood life
we didn't until this
pain subsides
that kiss that union
of souls
still lingers
you came into my life
at the wrong moment.
i went out too
at the wrong time
we like to find a moment in history
where we can both be right
where time becomes friendly.
until now all the doors are closed
the heart is numb.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem