White Widow Poem by Mel Mackie
White Widow
I sit with you, our solitude
exaggerated
by the loud chatter of voices.
The white perfume
spirals
upward and hits my nostrils
with the odour of inspiration.
My eyes see only you.
My thoughts are with,
and through you.
The gatherer wanders alone
craving the chase of the hunt.
The hunter's senses are keen
but her instincts tranquilize her.
They merge into one,
alone in a dark room,
with only you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/12/2024 9:07:04 PM # 1.0.0.1119
