Ce sont deux capitaines de frégates
Dont les corps amoureux furent
Retrouvés sans blessures apparentes
Let us shake the kaleidoscope
Colonial women and borderline girls
Dancing in glasshouses with office
Chairs turned upside down like chandeliers
The sick crowd of one likes itself noisily
Your self-liked selfie is like
A band aid on a discontinued self
Blue eyed boy, let me tell you why you're so lost,
On. Every. Single. Picture. Someone trapped
You in can and cannot, someone so hot
She'll keep you moated forever in bygones.
So let us shake the kaleidoscope
Colonial women and borderline girls of dysphoria
All you can do is burn your wooden boat,
You'll never return to shore,
God-gracious boy-girl of Saul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem