I still haven't had enough wine and this is happening
In your shadow:
I am still kissing in any cave that isn't yours, but soon I will
Be flying home underneath another airplane,
While all of the shadows glisten and
Are filled with the cages of escaped
Animals:
Why then doesn't it feel alright to play in the snow
Of your tears,
Echoing perpetually, enraptured like any other
Escaped animal drooling unto its jaw in
The full thralls of the moon, or just another rainbow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem