Only when I fell asleep
would she start
to kiss it
through her open window
when it came
and the oil she put on it
made it only harder on my self
I went in her mask was off
her hands
were soft and steady
and I stumbled as I stood
though she never
saw me
her skin was white as snow
moist her breath
was warm and wet upon
my neck
shooting stars the moons
not far
above the deep dark woods.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem