She dances to a different tongue;
Not the one that she found bitter
last night - that left her
rummaging through the wrappers of
bad taste in the morning
Tonight she is lost in the rhythm of
her Stranger's verse. Drunk on
salty moisture, sweating from dormant pores,
she sculpts their common speech with
soft movement
After finishing her drink she looks for
something to smoke and listens to music
in her head while neglecting
her lover's prose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem