Here in the close up
of this moment
five whirlpools
reach out for me
a double row
of scimitar swords
protect the orb
of seeing
there the sunken shaft
that rooted me to being
now as the camera
of the mind
pans away
the whirlpools resolve
themselves into
the whorls of fingertips
skin upon skin
the scimitar swords
row upon row
shape shift back into
eyelash after eyelash
and the navel
manifests itself
that mark of self
that once
tied me to the world
a kiss a kiss
another kiss
transforming the body
in its alchemy of love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem