when eyes go black-
preditorial
when shirts are torn
(buttons lost, perhaps forever)
when all the mind can grasp is
my milky skin
on his golden flesh
when he to me becomes
Kim Sang-Hoon
not just 'Hans'
my dragon, my tiger.
not just my ricebowl boy
and i say prosze as loudly as i am allowed
(at least when his brother is home...)
And afterwards all i want is some cake or a big mac
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem