042910e None Yet Poem by Manonton Dalan
042910e None Yet
cold, soft slithering on my feet
leaves falling on my face; so net
cool breeze, green grass still wet
monarch on your hair, while you sleep
i got up to wash my face
saw my... a mark of a kiss
dove into the river to wash away
it didn't; you really bit me
went back to tickle your feet
you kick, victoria secret; none yet
you get up; we have to look for food
in the bushes; there's plenty of fruits
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 4:42:08 PM # 1.0.0.1119
