Happy
as could be
we take a bus ride
it not
being necessary
to say anything
: just be.
We grin
as if were yellow
plastic Smiley badges
inane
happy as anything.
Your thigh
touching my thigh
does all the talking
talks now in non-stop longing
a language
not foreign
to us.
We smile
ourselves silly
as if love
turning the dial
on the clock
of evolution
turns us back
into mere protoplasm
turns us into
nothing more
than silly jelly
smiling slime
with only
our thighs
touching
touching
talking...talking...talking!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ah, , , , , , , , I love this poem! ! I know all about talking thighs, in fact the title made me giggle as I thought of two thighs having a conversation! But then, after reading this I see it is much more than this, when they are talking love, it's a whole new theme! Very inventive! HG: -) xx