join me, at the edge of the ocean.
where you'll please me
slowly.
and give me words
mixed with saltwater and sand…
when I don't know what I feel.
it's in those times, sieving hurt,
trying to capture other essences between my fingers,
that I'll find different ways
to say I love you.
with peonies,
in Augusts and Februaries,
with nearly buttoned gowns,
and cranes … letters delicately placed
in their feathers.
all the while you’ll kiss my tears.
their wetness
mark, and remain on your lips
in unreserved surrender.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem