Maybe in your absence
I will write
another thousand poems,
since it’s as if something is chasing me
and there’s power
in words
that goes out like a spell.
Sometimes fingers only wait
to let words sprout
before they even form
in thoughts,
still the castles
that I build with words
wants to hold a place for you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It is a rare one indeed that could live in such castle, but then again, 'drinking from a delicate cup is like kissing a beautiful girl' as per Margaret Alice in 'miss him'