I barely graze your skin,
And my fingertips are
No longer made of ice.
You are made of pure,
Unrated and destructive
Fire, that enflames
More than just my heart.
And here we are, a creation of God..we know the limitation of our body... as usual a fantastic poem from your fingertips, , ,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
emotional ignition, that is the accurate term which should be taken in to account when we attempt to say s.t. about fontker while she innocenly tries to draw in abstract the flame of her fire..well for you stef. you are trying hard..well for you