You caught me with your eyes.
An ocean of mahogany floating about,
Held tight by an well that's yet to spring.
Lucid and lush.
I gasped for air the moment they spoke what my lips could not.
Robust, they, the depth of their reflection.
If I could I'd drink from them each morning to start my day.
There, From the mahogany wells of your eyes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem