Yotam Gingold
Why don't you call your grandmother?
translated poetry:
night-finds were strewn about the valley
the river was flowing and rushing
the nightingale was chirp chirp
the trees were rustle-rustle
and the stars twinkled sharply, absent moon
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I cameo'd (feb) in Phases Crossed
Dr. Lara Kassoff, the best psychologist
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Pom
I can't wait to slip my hands around your tender waist
I long to press my hand against your bottle cap -- and with a pop, slip it off
I dream of holding you cheek to cheek with a pounding heart beat
I ache for that breathless moment when our lips meet,
and with a sigh,
I desire to drink you in, complete
