She is passing by
and with my camera in hand
I'm about to utter-
but before I can
she blurts,
'I know...we look alike.
Same hair-style.'
And as I'm about
to ask if I may
take her photo
she beats me to it
saying,
'Of course you may'
As I do
and was going to solicit -
she coos,
"Yes I'd love to."
And we do
at the corner café
a drink or two.
But she sees a greater thirst
in my eyes
and I hear the smack
of her parched tongue
as we speak in gazes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem