We started out just to feed the fish
you said,
The pillow of soft white sand
at the edge of shore.
Between the cut in the bushes.
Surrounded by mangroves.
A small window appears outward
when looking out at the sea.
And at first I was a small in your mouth
limited
and you know I am shy.
But then you with my bronzed legs
wrapped around your waist.
Bouncing your breast on my thighs.
The tide rising up behind you
blocking the waves as your hands
repeatedly send one stream of milk after the other
flowing into the surf
becoming mixed with the light green foam
and pin fish ate
it all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem