We fit into each other
and it is pure passion,
perfect like light on glass
with bodies, hands
and feelings touching deeper.
There’s JC Le Roux champagne in a glass
and the red sparkles like fire
burning deep in your eyes
while you shake your head
spreading your hair over your shoulders.
Later you lipstick
is on the edge of a glass,
while I pour some more champagne for you
and the smoke of your cigarette
spirals up into the air
and I see your perfect body
before you draw me nearer to you
and I feel your soft skin
with nipples pointing into my chest
with your breath soft against my cheek.
In your sleep your turn against me,
lying with an arm stretched over my body
and it’s as if your lips are muttering words
while your face looks pure and chaste
like that of a small girl.
The next day I find
a brown hair-clip in my bed,
on the pillow there’s a mark of red lipstick
and my sheets smell of you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem