Thoughts of you
twirl endlessly in my head
like hundreds of spinning tops.
Do you think of me?
Can you sense my yearning,
or,
does my fear of rejection
keep it hidden away?
Your hand sweeps the tops aside,
and my questions disappear
as you gently
hold my face
and
kiss me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem