When I rub lavender balm into your feet
it’s every time,
as if we go praying into communion
and in peace stand sinless before God.
I wash your feet in coarse salt
and there are things fitting neatly into our lives
and other things that we talk about
that breaks open a person’s heart.
Sometimes a candle or two are lighted
and the jasmine scent
comes in from outside
and it smells fresh like a new start.
There’s garlic bread of which I get slices
and the smell hangs in the air between us
and we discuss things suspended between us
that a person has difficulty to express in words.
The bottle St Celine
produced by Douglas Green
tastes to you like bitter blood
and you tell me about your pain and bliss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem