Raspberries or blackberries,
I like them on woman’s chest.
Obtrusive or submissive,
They never escape my eyes.
However buried they are in clothes,
I am able to scan,
How shapely they must be.
No need that my hands reach them.
My eyes are cute to catch them.
04.12.2001, Pakd
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem