if my heart knew the key
I would sing about our Valentine
in a pure, soft, wavy way
with a sweet and lovely chorus
the binding of love making
on fabrics of satin
when mine and thine intertwine
to be each our self and the other
but your lips are like thorns
on the fault line of old pain, and
I ask you in empty words
why am I your Valentine?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem