Time had frozen in some imaginable frame
Around this butterfly-like petite statue.
The ceramic blonde's arms wear their elevation:
Letting muted-blue sleeves drape like wide mouths as they sleep on them.
"Angel imitation" she names this pose. The retired white ceiling absorbs:
Soaking in the starry stares of the girl's
Pearly face and turned-up palms. Delicious dreams
Must be the weight in the curved bottoms of the
Girl's night drops named "eyes." They want to gaze
Inward at her mind's valiant visions of some ascension of hers.
The scene carves a mark in me.
It is delicate: a sculpture of the timid excitement of the isolated.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Amy M. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.