The distance stretches time.
Thoughts of you warps the veneer
Of my present self,
That exists in my
'Normal' state of being.
No real touch of you
But real memory of your touch,
And touching you.
Pictures in my memory,
So real that space moves
As 'you' pass by.
(4.30.8 Inner Thoughts)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem