Picture the scenario;
you and I,
a low-slung moon,
waves wrapping around our feet.
My body under your hands, smooth
as sea-worn wood.
Limbs like tinder
anxious for flame...
the coaxing to ashes
and released heat.
Imagine the sudden burst of it,
the combustion.
A boat catching fire
on the sea. A dark horizon
stained with the copper glow.
Watch it burning
down to the waterline, Love,
in a hiss of steam and smoke.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem