She dresses in black for him,
yet inside she burns white hot.
She pours his tea into a blue mug,
and slowly falls into his green eyes.
As he stirs in the sugar with a silver spoon,
she settles back into multi-coloured comfort.
He leans closer, finally able to see,
fire is the colour of her dreams.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem