how soft is this ray of
sunlight that daft
its way to the dryness of
my cheek
how fragile wings are
butterflies
hovering in air which
we only feel
when it travels like the
way our fingers
sleep their ways on the
table cloth made of
silk
how soft and beautiful is life
how unanticipated
only because i have never never
really touched you
as i in this poem only imagines
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem