a woman waits for me
to angle me in such a position
it clears the brain, mind
from blotches, obstructions
oiling them for prime functions
flight between the planets
decipher the lines of einstein, plato,
picasso, van gogh
i find the extra mental sphere for poem
between the seams of her wear
delicate corners, curves
that set the brain
on a different dimension
your voice, your hair, legs, bossom
a design to spearhead me
a rocket waiting to be launched
by your softness, scent, voice, gestures
my crystalised selvesthat come in jets and spurts
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem