I came to you
with my bad dreams
and poetry over half a year ago
talking of the merits of point blankets,
and making cars in Canada
talking of love through the mundane...
thousands of words passed
salt stains some of them
knowledge of currency's history was learned
Gods existence was questioned
but what can we become from this?
boundaries still lie
as we live for telephones
and yahoo post
need poured daily
making love to us individually
on nights notwithstanding the physical needs of another
recollections kiss me goodnight
and memories will make you dinner
shadows of silhouettes
of car pools, dinner parties and recitals
play free
like our children
yet there is no dissolution
no apathy
there is only us
and I think
I am more beautiful for it
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem