we walk down to the shed
for a drink of island's juice
while we talk how wonderful
is the place that we are in
i wasn't listening but looking
at what you have on all along
you put your hands on table
i put mine over yours gently
you start to massage my
fingers; i feel comfort, relaxing
i saw a pulp on your lips, i reach
to remove; you hold my hand
you look at me in my eyes
we hold hands and we left
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem