When love ignites our pillows fly
And with a wing on wing, so do I.
I smoulder blissful to your touch,
Like hot candle wax, besmirched
Insomuch as I could helix myself
And cling, mould rings around you.
When extinguished like a mollusc
You’re the flame that curls my toes
You’re the hands inky wet calligraphy
You’re the sensual part of darkness
My own light, wants dearly to enclose
In that gurgled hiss of desires throes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem