and you want me to do
those things the nuns warned me about
those naughty things
where they said that you could what you would
and my legs would naught be of wood
but your lips turning colors they in the light being as it is
nearly naught so for what you have to do planned
mother the sea said it wont hurt will it come in as the waves?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem