Staring at a broken mirror, at the background I hear the genre of a love guitar, as I recognise the wrinkles of lust on my skin. Face of youth, a habitat for love tears. A swerve my feet to right and stamp it, it's a command. I feel the sweat dripping down my thigh, the words I've written on the dance floor. In her eyes, I see the flames as she confess to the rhythm of her foot work. The emotions I feel, are well shown by my hands as I hold her close by. Our love on a paper, I watch as it burns to ashes. Breath, she says to me. I burst into tears, for in the ashes it reads our love will remain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem