In you I become lost
in the details of a fingerprint,
in the definition of metaphor,
in longing.
I find only the indulgent Heavens,
and you, deep in austere thought,
fusing feathers to your back
with candle wax
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
ah yes the things that make you go Hmmmm..... : o)