Alma, this is the darkness that your rabbits sleep in
Every night:
This is how they feel: how I feel, when I am outside of your
House,
Shivering in my cage of short fur suspended like a captured
Truant above the grasses:
This is how my body feels coming alongside your body,
Catching myself staring at the deep reflections of your curves:
Alma,
Your name is the soul of a candle in a carport, in a cage:
Alma, your eyes awaken from the sleep of our world, and they
See things that dance, and make love;
But what else they see, I don’t think I can bring myself to describe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem