You can smooth away the hatred
but can never douse the internal flame.
She ran her fingers over his trembling
lip until finally he eased his tauntness.
Even when he lost himself down roads
of short term bliss, she tracked him down
took his weight, willed him back to her
she bruised his pleasure with grief.
And after the act of love, when he had
drifted into sleep, she entered his dreams
fought his demons, battled and blotted
out his past, until even in sleep he found no escape.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem