You are someone with big eyes,
beers and pasts, walk-in the heaven gate
smokes, who liked to reach it out to the depths
of the middle ofgreen lake, spark
the flint of my lighter, take me to heaven gate
and talk about black milk coffee and sex
with whipped cream designs—and times, my next
lover—and dive in to put out the flags,
swim to the green lake to peel off my cotton
boxers and wring them in my fighter's fist.
It's too hot in the summer on the green water
we fall in, naked for falling in
naked and docking unanchored.
I recall. You'd kiss me too hard and hold me tight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem