An abstract evening
Lungs drew in
The smell of dusk:
Vehicular exhaust
Fuming oil
And extra brewed tea too
On the side walk
You allowed me to hold your hand
We jumped from one side walk to the other
Won't you hold mine, I asked
But I allowed you to hold mine...
You replied contemplating
Your next step...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem