I press my hips,
to yours searching.
A brush of skin,
of cheeks mingling.
Your eyes wide,
as I tend to a motion.
The continuing motion,
of bodies embraced.
A stroke of your collar,
as hair cascades your shoulders.
And sheets wrapped to relish,
serenade our warm spines.
I may no longer breathe,
without breathing you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem