The taste of your voice
Blessed by the essence of the days vanity
Moments pass as each second becomes cherished
The past of butterflies that have lost track of time
The angels sit
precarious as their laments are carried by the wind
A paraplegic stillness that halted before the wind swirled
An Invisible immigrant to the hairs that rose on the back of our necks
Silence peaked
Emotion gave way
Giving way to the roof that houses the clouds
Heaven could be tasted
Each sense caught fire
Becoming liquid fire as each moment neighbored the hour
That swooned eternity
Hidden by the sands beneath the Sphinx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem