Naked nipples in the moonlight
...froth upon the foam.
Our clothes like disguises discarded
piled up neatly in a dome.
The world had turned to silver.
The moon began to swoon.
Corny as a cliché...a naughty night in June.
So cold
(yet so together)
naked as the night
the moment lives forever
bodies
clothed in moonlight
moonlight...moonlight...moonlight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem