An angel caught behind the glass,
sweetness viciously attacking the tongue.
You were the great divide,
crunchy outer and chewy inside.
Glory was only a figment
of my imagination
as
you were only
an aftertaste of freedom.
An angel screaming behind the glass,
cherries ripped from the heart of the blossom.
You were the sugar-coating,
drooling chocolate over my bare feet.
And I melted
beneath your touch.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another very nice one. You are talented April, keep up the good work. Susan :)