Touch the grass
it waves against my skin
the lark can be heard to sing
blue sky speaks of you
and summer days
Walk with me
slide fingers down my undress
wrap me in the smallest death
loose me here
amongst the grass
and swaying wind
until I no longer feel
where I begin
pull your bow over
the lark song
watch it speed across
the cloudless sky
until there is nothing
but shimmering sun
and you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem