I see you, you exist,
we continue to be friendly
We are happy to recognize,
greet, touch, kiss
one another in some garden, a café,
in our modern sunfilled homes
Yet, our salutations, the smiles
untasted passions
sweet nectar of peaches
are acts taking place
in a waiting station
for you, for me,
thoughts
of one history
or another…
we agree to love
make love, sweetly
giving birth
to unborn children
in a vortex of mad desire
where flowering manhood
blossoms in a valley
of endless waterfalls
within us
the words
are enemies
to this world,
the world
where
all our unborn children
play
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem