a green boat is laid down
on the white sands of the shore
pointing its tip like
his phallus
to the wide bosom of the
sea
its arms make the balance
between lust and love
the sea wonders
if she is the only one sailed by this
green boat
the green boat
stays on the ground
lorenzo sees
what these matters tell him
sometimes he says
there is this talk between two men alone
in whispers
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem