My room gasps with the breath
of your shadow
and my soul dons shivers
as it faints
quivering in the ardor of your kiss…
My body burns with the thirst
of your touch
and rivulets form wrinkles on my brow…
I stand naked
conjuring the heat of your blood…
In the emptiness
my hands long to sculpt you
but space turns to dust
at my fingertips…
poppies freeze in my veins…
Seta Krikorian
translated by Tatul Sonentz
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