Love is stinking bug that squishes in your sock when you didn’t know it was in there but you had the suspicion cause you left your socks outside the tent when you went camping somewhere pretty one night last week and you didn’t put them back on cause you brought your sandals but now you put them on after not washing them and that stinking bug was in there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem