Her only home is herself
her only contact to her body
her hands
untouched by man who want
to sleep with her in the nest
of desire,
she refuses all offers
regardless of color and shape
deep within her
pressure is building
like a tornado
but she keeps herself
composed like a placid lake
like an undisturbed sky
glittering with the beauty of
the stars
a volcano is erupting inside
her breasts
she refuses hands and lips
and mouths
her house is herself
abandoned by the sun
and the rain
she is alone and too lovely
still
the moon tonight by her
open window shall be her lover
she is after all a metaphor
of suppressed desires.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem