Rough Poem by Paulo Ramos
Rough
There is a sound of the sea
In the curves of your shoulders
In the pits of your collarbone
Ships, seagulls and screams.
The sound of the sea on your shoulders
The warmth of a morning sun
Comfort for my head
Rest for my mouth.
My salivary foam
Blends with the sea
Resting on your shoulder blades
Roughening the wind of my breath.
Paulo Ramos - Trofa - Portugal - 05.10.2009
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 5:53:50 PM # 1.0.0.1119
