lips...
written in darkness,
mouthing words
in unspoken language.
searching,
groping for reason...
trembling before
the soft underside
of the shell.
lips...
bruised,
and wanting,
saying much
with silent moves.
lips...
that pray,
and drench loving,
with the softest
and hidden,
bell of the hungry.
lips...
that cross bridges
and build stairways,
from empty rooms
to the warm beating heart!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem, my lips sometimes speak before my brain is in gear.