My Poet Profile Poem by Atef Ayadi

You think, and
I write that, with my sweat, my blood,
your lips' preferred drink,
and your red, green, black and white blink.

You dream, and
I paint that.
colors are always born from your skin;
they spray like a young and mature gleam.

You suffer, and
I convert that
into roses, trees, rivers, desert of abundant happiness, and
oceans with or without puffer.

you walk,
I talk about that

you whisper,
I make your whisper, gasp and wind
that blows on the sun
the moon is always crazy
it like to see the sun
a dancing twister.

you run,
I run;
it is not about race, pride, heroism, being coward.
I like the infant you are and I am
fun is always the children's fun.