as far the floors
they are now wet so
you don't teleport through
doors sneaking towards
perfection the pictures on
the windows will always
show clouds as i am
hiding beneath gates
always in glass clothes
and there
you
are
to
lit
ever
y mind
(11 July 2008)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This was intended to look like a tree... but, once submitted, it doesn't accept the spaces.: (