two souls, one body,
two hearts, one breath.
the spirit made to fit the mouth....
the dream naked, hungers...
we are born inside
the faintest touch....
carried by a blade of hair,
the scent of a neck....
moth to flame,
or flame to moth?
one cannot exist
without the other!
cannot be complete
without mortar and brick...
laid perfectly seamless,
one lost inside the other!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sir, you really understand everything... There's always that attraction. But not all moths escape the burning of the flame...