I shook my apple right in your face,
I fed you pomegranate seeds,
one by one,
until you choked up.
I tied you up in promises subtle as lace.
And, like a flare, our whole fuse was lit,
while you begged for a bite,
just for a few moments
until you figured me out.
For that spark, I'm not sorry for any of it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem