Somewhat new to my eyes
As time hops
As time flies
As time stops
For a while
December-kissed skin, cold and tan
Breeze brushes her cheeks
Along my way
Along the highway
Along the sidewalks
I’m walking into
The sound of a young soul
Dreams in her eyes
Through the clouds
Through the indigo grasses
Through the ceiling
Smiling back at her
Semi-ebony hair dancing in curls
Her captivating chuckle
From behind
From the illuminating space
From the marble grounds
Is perfectly crafted
Like her hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem