When morning comes
I dream of colors lush
And green.
Our bodies knotted
Like the vines of a jungle tree
That have grown entangled
Legs twist and curl
In odd ways
An intricate mass of flesh
Caught between pillows and
Flowered sheets.
We lie naked
Too hot to stir
In our tropical
Green house.
Outside, the winter wind howls
Annoyed that we
Still sleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem