there are stories and there will be more
coming next is the love story
between a crocodile and a
butterfly
did i not once tell you about the tragedy
of the ceiling and the floor?
oh, until now, they haven't really kissed
despite their pronounced
love for each other
with the walls as their sole witness
i have more stories for you to tell before you
finally leave
for that place called oblivion.
i wish i can rewrite the Arabian Nights
not in thousands but in millions now vis-a-vis this electronic technology
and there you are
listening like grass to the soil with all ears dipped flat on the pebbles
and the sands
i understand i will be your entertainer for the next hundred years
silly! but that is what we are meant to be
an old Spanish church where you are the head priest
beside a convent where someone's got to be a nun exempted from the age
of time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem