darkness
is a mole
the skin
becomes an
ocean
wide wide
wild wild
imagination
like dolphins
and seagulls
a big idea
comes like
a whale
light is a needle
like a pine
a cone is a fruit
of waiting
what i see
is a fireplace
a lighthouse
no one is a ship
not one is a port
on this
emptiness engulfing
a big idea
of a whale and
planktons
sounds of sipping
coffee on my
table like
a piece of yellow
paper like a lake
where letters
become kayaks where
speaking becomes
a waterfall hitting
rocks
where swimmers always
find time to
laugh like children
once, away from
books, away from
imposing fathers
dispensed from
impulsive mothers
as memories flock
like doves upon
a wire, a thread of
thoughts connecting
into something not
so significant but
lingering like a
lingerie of the
first love you have
made with.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem