cold nights here
the cigarette is useless
there is a fire building
inside my
belly
stiff love looking
for the softness of the
pillow
a woman
is the best metaphor
for this
kind of poem
the lips of a woman
hungry for
love
in me
driving the car one evening
along the lanes
of dim lights
looking for loneliness
waiting for me
alone again
but this time trying to find
someone
even for a fee.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem