For less than five minutes
I saw him.
Under the stars of our wind-whipped city,
teetering on the edge of a crumbling cliff,
All I could do was stare
at his sharply sculpted chest,
his blood-stained tattoos,
and piercing blue eyes.
We hugged each other, one more time,
knowing that we would never get together again.
Like a true gentleman,
the bartender from the Bronx sent me on my merry way,
never leaving my side,
until my Prius pulled away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem