Wrapping self in a blanket of believability, throwing away
impossibilities, allowing them to come back around in new
and different abstract ways.
Whistling, sighing, enjoying rhythms pounding incessantly
in the back of my mind, caressing and holding them tenderly
like new born babies, letting them rest until they are ready
to jump in and create more poetry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem