What is it really?
Is it within you? ..is it
your lips wrapped
around it?
Is it in the head?
Is it in the moon?
Venus really is it?
Is it always fault of Mars..
Is it always to soon?
If it's touched..once
is it lust..ing..?
If it's touched over
and over like book
shelves is it dusting?
What if it's touched
just to hear it make
it's noise that wet noisy?
Can lust make it feint?
If streams damn a lake
runs to rivers in currents
ocean is flavor is it lust?
Is lust like dusting, out so
call the maid, ring for the
butler, man it is armed.
Over maid being dusted?
What is it, is it lust..?
Is it very sweet musk?
Is it lust to touch one smile
into another two smiles
just to cover all the smiles?
What is lust..is it need or is
it simply thick seed running,
into wells never filling, a truth?
Is lust yours simply unsealed,
mounted, covered and filled?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very interesting, nicely written, good job.