To make love with a stranger is the best.
There is no riddle and there is no test. -
To lie and love, not aching to make sense
Of this night in the mesh of reference.
To touch, unclaimed by fear of imminent day,
And understand, as only strangers may.
To feel the beat of foreign heart to heart
Preferring neither to prolong nor part.
To rest within the unknown arms and know
That this is all there is; that this is so.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A well crafted piece. Simply excellent.....10++ Please read my new poem MORBID SPREAD. Thanks.