Gingerbread angels lay crashed upon the mattress
Grooving moulds into comfort holes,
Creating a void into which they may slip.
One bears the emblem of the Rose upon his arm
The other lay upon a sailing smile out of reach for a while,
He marries his hair with the cloth buttoned to his chest.
They rest. Eyes wide shut, stepping out into the expanse that
Is the Wilderness of our mindscapes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem