I once dared touch passion
as it spoke its name to me.
Two souls who met by chance
neither meant to be there.
The dance grew in tempo;
distance shrunk by flame.
Time apart, hurried and shared
by standing in its rain.
Then life threw it a twist.
Fear can kill passion you know.
It drowned over the Atlantic
(nothing floats forever) .
Now I sit in the dark
picturing it in my mind.
Wondering just how many times
passion walks through the door.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem