Inhale.
Exhale.
Again and again we continue.
The knots of a fine rope circle in on themselves
as the cool water turns warm.
Sequential memories flow within the circles and drip down making a pool.
I am less than becomes we are more-
No longer searching for so much as yearning to find the reflection of you within the gentle currents above and below.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem