She likes the strange taste
That often sits on her tongue
Mouth wide open and waiting
She is empty if not filled
Broken if less than fixed
Forgotten if not thought of
Grey is a colour not seen
She wants more than it all
Swallowed the moon as though
It was cheese and drank
The sun as though it was rum
Her mouth is a deep portal
To a realm other than this
She stores all that she finds
In this unexplored land
A universal process that
Cannot be fought or rebelled
She can hear your thoughts
As they slip into her mouth
And can taste your song
As it becomes her own
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem