you were not so much
as now you are
laying there, sleeping
open to the world of dreams
watching you as your eyes
underneath the lids
moving, 'jerking up and down
very fine beads of sweat
on your moist upper lip
then sinking slowly down
your inner most opens
my touching never stopped
as deep in sleep
and i think
why are you still crying, 'dear'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem