your seminal lips,
swollen, quiver....
pajama bound,
light turning on the bottle,
cigarette ashe falling
to the floor....
you smell like me,
25 years ago...
or woodsmoke hanging
in the autumnal chill...
frost on the windows,
the door locked and bolted....
a pair of old boots
sit alone on the porch.
moonlight, and you....
just beyond touch!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem