that morning, I turned nine
you were ten but believed we were fishes
skipping through the grass
the skies were cottony and green
salmon pink were my slippers that day
the tires screeched at a greek street
asperger’s was a dream
to waste our thoughts into words
let’s be colorful followers
of hare krishna from now until forever
we are nothing but sweet syrup
in the universe’s pudding of goodness
say we run barefoot on candy fields?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem