the pressure cooker
hisses...once...twice
...thrice...and i can smell
the spicy meatballs inside
my taste buds open
like petals of a flower
kittens play below my feet
one...two...three...
i can feel warmth on my feet
their sane purrings
they'll grow up into ladies and gents
as flowers open fully
my kid son stares amazed
a crack between his ruddy lips
i can smell the world, spicy...
saliva flows...
i love this world for my glands
still secrete
i'm in love with kittens
spicy meat, my kid son
silence unveils
deep happiness
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Pleasure and happiness need to be explored through innovative ways. They are not very far. Thanks, Dear Poet.