Outside the window
I see that it’s wintering.
My three jars of solid sweet
Made of thoughts and several lies
Are beckoning to be spread out.
The lamp’s light is a treat;
Driveways and trees
Are wet from yesterday’s tears
Impressive impressions
Are handprinted on our walls.
To make up
For the stolen dew and fruits
Let’s devour every passer-by
And feed on their hunched joys
Decaying honesty
Coated with thick sugar, sprinkles.
I realized I just made you scream
Apologies surge through my throat
But I prevent them
With this table cloth.
Hush baby, don’t make a sound
I’ll tie you to the bed tonight.
We’ll unleash every loot;
Tonight is our best theft yet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem