Like the faint distant intimacy
of musical notes,
more evident by their remoteness.
She lingers in the recesses,
an imbalance to his symmetry.
The night translates
memory.
Mirrors
past announcements,
colors, scents.
A touch.
The quite resolute
undress
of resistance
and denial,
leave’s a
lonesome
chill...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful piece, so graceful the flow