I feel the presence.
When you had bartered
my pulse for a pain.
Something impossible
was going to happen.
I was buried in a wall.
The words you did't utter,
had reached me.
We would talk of the
marriage of sun with
a moon.
A virgin soul in
yoga, takes a flight to meet
her angel for the
first kiss.
Sometimes life
betrays the death and
renews the pact with
immortal embraces.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem