She played my veins like a cello
my arteries like a rock violin
and the screech you might've heard
were the angry little words
my soul echoed before doing me in.
I hear, though
that ladies like musicians
especially in America
so go on, little ladies
play all you want
my heart will keep beat
just for you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem