The echoes
in her heart-holes
sang his name
backwards
... well, she thought they did
but perhaps it was
the bareback hoof-songs
of her unicorn
pounding across
the plains,
her hands
entangled
in his glorious mane,
her hair flying,
as she drank the wind,
wild and free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem! Well done!