your head
lies on my arms
the plane moves
smoothly in the night
sky
at dawn it touches
in Los Angeles
you smile at me
and i know what is this
all about
for the nth time
when the pressures of
travel lands on all
of us
and so i did not
bother asking your name
where you live
and what you do with your
life
cause i know
that song, 'what's love got
to do with it? '
and i pick up my
back pack
move on with my life
trying to tell you
that i travel in style
too
without bothering
anyone....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem