Wind prowled.
You had a hornet’s sting
buried half in your hand.
Anaphylactic shock.
Translates into night of terror.
You hesitate to smile.
Midnight blues.
You cannot count the stars.
Pesky. Stories spread about moon’s pink thighs.
An ode to the death’s kiss.
You were sleeping in the
sole embrace of pain.
The denizen breaks the rule.
Moves into the sea
for courtship with depth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Like this, a truly great write. A fantastic poem. May i invite you to read my new poem called, Lights Of Justice.