[Long time no write, eh? Don't worry, I'm still alive. And still writing love poetry. Yeesh. It's kind of funny, I've never experienced anything remotely similar to what I wrote about in this poem, but here it is. I pretty much just wanted to use the word "translation" in a poem. No lie.]
Foreign beauty, your smiles need no translation.
Though your words dissolve to letters without
Meaning in my head, I still need your voice to shine,
Your mouth to open and close its way to the moon.
Foreign beauty, your eyes speak another language.
Blinks become words and looks find their poetry
In the glowing hush that surrounds you, filling
Silence with a beauty it never used to have.
Foreign beauty, you move just like a sunset,
Flowing slowly as time rolls by, mixing
The atmosphere with the waves of your
Invented spectrum, all gold and red and perfect.
Foreign beauty, you don’t know the word “goodbye.”
In your fated twilight hour, you followed sunset’s cue;
You left me in the dust of dusk, you left
Without a word. I need no interpretation.