Blood is in, salsa out
Almost just a tween
snow melts through
a crimson way,
touching all it sees
Living in her pocket,
had her for a moment
The blood is all he sees
If we go ask
a Jesus Christ
maybe he could see
Wandered through
a golden door,
the ceiling made
my neck creaky
Blood for words,
snow for eyes
He takes in all he sees
Rips in his pockets
lost another moment
the rain, washes it down the street
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem