I can set out on a world tour
On foot, holding your fingers,
Your beautiful, pink fingers.
I can spend years in meditation
Like a sage, if you let me clench
Your pink fingers in my fist.
I can embark on a parachute jump
From the top of the Mt. Everest,
If I have with me, your pink fingers.
I can write a poem every morning,
Only if every night I go to sleep
Holding one or more of your fingers.
