Kiss
until
the wildfire
of each morning
slips into breathless
intoxication;
until
no scent is left
but a waft
of her fragrant skin
drifting around you, and
leaving you completely
nothing but a whiff
of sputtering flames
rippling through
every nerve,
in mindless surrender,
if it happens.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
when softness of touch reach tenderness of skin warmth crackles within bursting into unseen sparks between thanks, so passionate verses from gentle heart. md