When I am with him all the fruit rushes to the lowest branch making the weight of the limb bow down to him to the ground. He reaches up pulling the ripest juiciest peach down. I can feel the juices bursting from the skin with the touch of his mere hand. He lifts me high off of the ground.
Love surrenders all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem