A kiss that begins in the warm neck
Stops in the angle of the lips without time
Wait the nourishment that sprouts
In small drops of the nectar of its souls
Of its lover-hood
Of quiet feet under the calm water,
Transparent,
Balmy…..
With the open hands…..
Offering-itself in bunch
Of fresh clover….
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautifully done...l ennoy being taken away.