With mine own hands grasping
pulling harder at the air
reaching skyward
breezes tease
touch
delving under into
pore and vein
ripping tenderly soft
warm and ripe
her womb aching
empty channels denied
whispered lovingly seduced
sentenced to tears of agony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Until the tears are touched and traced and dried. So beautiful this longing.