The grammar she uses is pointing.
Slow motion, like spilling olive oil.
A habit, I suppose.
I didn’t take it down, but something
like this:
The tide of evening on the oblong chair
and dark magazines. I like what you do,
no need to ask.
I lean close to listen.
Instrumental theme; no need for words,
your eyes can read.
The grammar she uses is pointing:
hands and arms blowing, blowing
in oversize sleeves.
Mellifluous, slow motion, olive oil.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem