I got stained to a halt
The color of her innocence
washing over me in waves
the beautiful lies
stuck in my throat
stuck in the tacky
white
she poured over me
that dried
to a high gloss
covering, overwhelming me
the pristine soul
at once an aphrodisiac
and a drug
stunting the growth
of thoughts and deeds
best reserved
for older trees
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem