LOST IN BLOWING MASS
of WHITE SMOKE
We are window to window
An empty parking space apart.
No words are exchanged
Just a quick smile between two strangers
Having just gotten In their cars,
Both liking
What they see.
Until I start mine and your unforgettable face
gets sucked into a sudden fallen cloud-
My white smoke exhaust
Killing the moment,
That potential moment -
The 'us' probability.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem