You trace my back with your fingertips,
All the days that used to be, standing tall between us, just history, like scars in my skin.
Bittersweet kindness in your honeyed eyes, for the memories I've carried with me.
My body knows you, a warm, familiar place. You wrap yourself around me, my only home,
the only one I've ever known.
You...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem