last night
you sent a picture
a face surrounded with flowers.
i sent mine
a face waiting for your body
in bed.
you sent another picture this time
it is your son saying
leave her alone and
so i sent a picture of my wife
kissing my lips and too saying
leave him alone
he is mine.
this morning you say
i'm sorry and i am wondering
if i have to send another picture
thru the MMS
saying: are you the mistress of the ruins?
sorry? what are you sorry for?
we have nothing. I am only giving you
what you ask. Just giving.
Not taking.
yes, not taking you
seriously. And you like it?
love this poem. Play me.
You still like toys. Toy me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem