She meant to write it down,
that vivid dream, so strange
but pleasant, warm and weird.
But then it slipped away
through gaps while brushing
with Oral-B her white enamels.
Try as she might during the day
she realised that there would be
no point and that she'd wait.
Perhaps they had not dissipated
to feed the aspirations and the dreams
of others, this was hers, her handiwork.
And then, while brushing her blond locks
it came to her, the memory of cotton candy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ahhhhh memories. Innocent... Almost. Excellent work!