my hands.....
your feet....
your head....the pillow.....
your smile...your wonder....
your skin.....inner soft sound and voices....
your safe harbor
dooms and nipples
are my spirituality....
the cold fountains....
hot sprints....
dangerous....zambies and wild wolves....
camping with an Aztec....zebra...
in a damn wilderness....
without techo transissions...DJ and
plasma tv....
you see ay-wa
then aywa connects to you...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem