snowflake

You will never know just how beautiful
you really are to me,
Because you can't feel it,
The way your fingertips tiptoe
Unbegotten across my skin
Timid as snowflakes
Scurrying forth across untouched ground.

Fresh footfalls in the snow
Carried away upon hands veiled by
The satin clingfilm of
the English night skies.
We are intoxicated,
Breathless beneath the stars and
streetlamps that pool feebly beneath
the weighty incandescence of boundless wisdom.

Nous sommes éternellement décorée,
Une note sculpté dans
le cuir chevelu de la terre,
Nous vivons dans le péché
puis que nous sommes toujours amoureux,
Mon amour.