i am a lighthouse because of the months of
June and January.
random really, but no.
the honey of the moon drips slowly over your light
with an amber glaze. an encounter between the sheets.
the wolf moon? the wolf moon
howls in jubilation
for the sexual squall on the shores of your notice.
enchanted really, oh yes. Yes!
Just when did you turn me
from a raging fire on a hill during a storm
into the house upon your light?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem