You take my hand
in your hand
look at it
quizzically
trace out
each time
with a gentle
scarlet fingernail
follow each
tributary of me
to its source
your gaze
unravelling
the secrets
of me
one by one
your eyes
seeing
what I am
to become
your breath
touches my heartline
as I(wrapt
in your perfume)
listen enraptured
to tales of love
a future
dangled tantalisingly before me
and then you
make it all come true
not knowing
how to read palms
but knowing just how
to love me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well, I just don't know how you do this...how do you take such a simple act, one which anyone with a lover has done a thousand times, tracing the lifelines of our palms...and make it into such a tender, soft-spoken love poem...not knowing how to read palms...but knowing just how to love me is a killer line..