Pass me by the bay,
And let her catch me there.
On golden rocks I'll lay
Without any underwear.
Ask me not to stay,
Because I'll still be there,
And hope that I don't pray
For someone else to hear.
Here is there to you,
And there is here to me.
And where you are is true,
And where I am is free.
- Joshua Guillory
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem