...so like bubbles, the surface tension of my soul...
fragile, existing to be seen- reflecting the shifting colors of what is packed, edge to edge inside...
the beauty of the sphere, what is my own, escapes and transfixes me..
like a bird in the air, near the shore, where the bubbles from the surf form foamy piles on the growing warmth of the sand
...in the light of the rising sun...
...i float and wonder..at what more might be trapped inside..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem