It was not enough to see your shadow
in the loft
of that worn out warehouse.
I needed more than the cemetery
beaming from your lips,
the iris, blooming from your eyes.
my hands on their second boil and
for a passerby, this is
a graveyard of fragrant flowers
You choked me at midnight,
in the light of song,
and shook my world to its
foundation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem