When the days action is done,
Right or wrong and evening,
Like a friend, comes lying next to me;
In corporeal form;
A much longed for lover
I am still lovelorn for.
In everyman’s subconscious wish
Of being the held, swaddled
In bath towels, I embrace my limbs
Wrist bone to cheek;
It is I who pretends to belong to another
As I snugly pull the covers over.
As water seeks its own level along
The tide pools of a dry riverbed,
It is you the moon reflects, as a nude
I make visceral love to, then smiling
Sweetly delude myself to sleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem