I don't need a pole star to find my way home
I've found the true north
in the moving direction of her shoes.
I don't need a bell jar to hide away my reality
I've escaped into surrealism
while travelling through her tattoos.
I don't need a sermon about the gospel truth,
I've heard it from the holy angels
when they sang along to her Blues.
I don't need a bourbon to keep my desires warm,
I've tasted the fire of the eternal sun
in the dying embers of her muse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Experiencing self realization makes one to accept all be proud of it. Good
So true, Thank you for reading!