Our skin has touched
at the G point of the night.
There is a red earthquake
at these lonely places of the skin.
Desire grows chatty
when your breath covers my chest –
this breathing prologue
to a rain of your movement.
I am an explorer
in your body’s secret city;
my hands travel according to spells
through your skin’s white atlas.
The wasp’s non-sting
of my tongue has settled –
as caught in addictive scents
of a small poppy field –
here, to the South of your face.
Oh! my love, subject and object of my life –
The Great Wall of China shrinks its span
to fit between one of your shoulders
no enemy fleet shall pass.
There is an absolute hegemony here
in your breast, in the night,
which casts its spells cross-eyed.
translated from Turkish to English
by Serkan Engin with James Pickersgill