Meticulous footsteps in the dark,
approaching perilously, but rakishly,
forming perfect shapes in the stone cold concrete.
That is all I see, in this debauched agony, my love.
Macabre memories of Thee,
and Thy brazen attitude.
It is all I see, my love, my porcelain doll,
anticipating Thy arrival,
and hoping, hoping for more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
lovely...there is allegory there is mystery and a poetic rendering. a tantalizing hint for things to come. i especially liked the allusion to foot steps... forming perfect shapes in the stone cold concrete nice poetry liked