We went
round and round
the indoor rink
My hand cold
and damp with
the sweat of fear
So soft and
sweet she was
I knew I
had to hold her
Whirling,
whirling,
The others became
less real and
faded away
as our hands
grew warmer
in each other
The music stopped-
I came undone.
I wanted to touch
her hair of fire,
but I couldn't find
the words to tell her
i was just a boy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem