it is of the blood,
that we carry, that we turn,
that we walk...
the blood that feels,
and touches,
the raw and the forbidden.
it is of the bood,
that we breathe, that we sweat,
that we join,
in moments of passion,
great and small,
in the simple and mundane.
it is of the blood,
that we drink, that we pray,
that we wear...
on lips parched and blistered,
smeared over the doorway...
the blood that takes back,
that seizes the moment
in the undressing of the heart!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Because blood run from and returned to heart Because heart is the place that control emotion and emotion will influence any action and because of heart.... Of the blood, they carry missions if good heart pumps good beat sounds Of the blood to back to heart station let we filter the valve so the good we bound_Unwritten Soul