Slow and easy, steady does it, taking turns in the dark,
splitting apart measures of sorrow, it's tears spilling
about the room.
Forgetting and finding again moments we've found together,
spreading music in my mind, stepping and jamming constantly
without falling down or apart.
Raising the roof, touching feelings that are being jumbled
and tumbled inside, wringing the fabric of intellect as I
ride into the sunset of tomorrow.
Leaving behind impressions and reminders keeping me moving
constantly without going anywhere, focusing solely on the
purpose and essence of inner passion and desire.
Both being recognized simultaneously while strutting through
poetical interludes of fanciful beginnings, touching upon
fruitful endings, waiting in line for me to finish.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem