yep she was
as smooth as ice-cream
and stubborn as aged whiskies.
But I really liked that.
I liked her stance as she shouted,
her sad eyes as she mired
her heart…as she loved
and I will only know of her
-nothing
only reflections of poetic pudding
(but who does not like pudding?
….just saying)
because, thats just the way
it is
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem