it must be humble, simple and earthy
and withdrawn slowly and touched often
each stone too will look a little different
and unlike the many these are not often
and one rests and one spot over it covers
dark moss and that narrow slippery slope
mouth and tongue it's soft is that language
the rest only hear gutturally and sleep in it
and before the next block is placed on top
it is pulled up and it's squeezed over them
and when it meets that gasp, it is firmly set.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like the title, the lack of punctuation and block form of this little tease of a poem, suits it's rather slippery imagery...graveyards and erotica? lol what a combination to die for! Smiling at you Tai