Moving in and out of the dance of life
I backed away
she then moved closer to me.
Her lips were warm as I slowly stood
watching the roses
open their petals out side of my room.
In her hair that smelled of apples
not far from the tree
beneath her chin my hand turned
her face up to see.
Closer to me
moving in moving out
her warm lips
were as my last breath
breathing
her life back into me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem