it is my love of poetry
that has drawn me to you
and i imagine a face
the rhythm of your body
the softness of your hands
the gentleness of your words
like a flute a friend
must i discover a different you
from your words
those that have become
pilgrims living in some other
houses
brothels actually
there is bifurcated path
one that could have led to you
where i can be
happy
but there is that path that
leads away from
what is good
undressed it is a totally different
you in my mine
and i close my eyes and bow my
head and
i could have blamed myself
about something that could have been possible
but which i have denied
and so here i am again
solo flight
again to this journey
on paths that i have constructed myself
forgetting you
the usual
wolf in sheep's clothing
sorry...
this morning i get you book
of poems
pour kerosene over each page
and burn
them all....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem