a poet
sent me this comment:
**************
I am but a dry land awaiting your liquid kiss...
Said She'the one i Miss, her miss'.
I miss the kiss of awe...
I was the one, she liked, she saw.
But that island of love sank deep, with my love...
Down, down, be she, from up above.
She be, my love...
My dove.
********************
(me) :
my only option
i always respect my self for having options
in my
optional
option to option
hide-hide
imperialistic
obama
batman
life.
so dear! ! !
if i leverage
my name
and bit on feeling
your poem,
i would say....
do not be
man!
a chicken....
i do not
write
a frank
male?
disclosure
in public
sorry
for chocking your
cocking mocking
and put my finger
three centimeter from your
wambling-trembling-bombo bing
waking up from chock
eye
you want
to kiss
go for a kiss (and give me a brake)
and do not write
like a kisser...
CAUSE,
I PERSONALLY KISS
SO I WILL NOT TALK ABOUT IT...later...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem