It's those woman's legs
which make a poem walk.
It's the tender woman's mouth
which give it sound to talk.
It's the woman's eyes
that give it oceans depth.
It's a woman's promising
her breasts fill promiscuity
those silent but full promises
which always should be kept.
It's a woman's blown belly
which bubbles in a why
that nakedness will never miss
the answers in the sky;
a poem born from nakedness
should make its readers shy!
Nieuwjaarsdag 2015 Madrason
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem