A show of mind starts
Dancing beings not of
Themselves
But of me
And of you
Why, always of you?
I try not to think of them
Keep away I say
But they return
Poking
Prodding
The beings, I know not
What they desire
True love or Sex
They are the lingering
Beings of my
Dreams of you
Why, always of you?
For. Brad
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem