white hips a soft fist
for the wrist of your waist
black hair in a spill
on your shoulders
small whirlpools
your ankles
green streams ride
your calves
blue rivers your thighs
I finger the flute
on the back of your neck
rise and slip in
at that moment dawn
and new
life begins
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem