He notices unfettered wisps of hair
Limping against her shoulder, there
Like hints of rebellion
Tickling his inner consciousness.
He could not see her face
From where he sat,
But he imagined it of consequence
Self-assured and strong, that face
Which mirrors smug confidence
As she claims his place
In line, flaunting her prim estate,
Each pinnacle he might have seasoned
Were he a woman, or so he reasoned.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Acts! ! Muse, Jealousy! ! ! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.