The dreams you are
come more frequently
cinnamon is color
sequin is dressed.
Flirt whys blushed of
rushing yards sheer face
flaunting grace
aged in perfection.
Blemishes
stored in hand never
displacement provocation
held out is
without cause
seeking my forgiveness.
Open palm is eye
suggestion lays slain
man is tear
mirror that is you
deep sleep.
Pleading this
that is you
in it is always
refracted truth
shattered it is to
smokelessness.
Do you watch?
are you deaf?
do you care?
have a care!
open my eye! ...please...listen to me..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem