Like the whiteness
of the dove she appears
outside, but right inside
there is a moister standing.
A black creature, as black as the kiwi shoe polish yes right inside she board.
A glittering, spotless robe shes wearing, a step try to undress and flabbergasted you will be.
Masquerade!
Aye the very her nausea, the physical frame appears to be the harmless sheep.
Pretence!
A wally she is, voluptuary forsooth.
Shes a masquerade!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem