those are your circle of friends;
and each of you so different
as the cherry from the
strawberry tastes the yellow
from the green
and you are the best one
not as wanton and even though
if only you could get away with it
without the rest of your friends ever
knowing.
Secretly you envy her
when he is behind you
and his friends
cover for you as his hand
slips up past and into
as yours
and
as you weigh the heft of each risk
and each time you know by
simply holding it
that nothing else will come out
but that
and he never ever realized
now blindly
and when they are behind you
that you do know what's up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem