Red lips:
I don’t know her.
But after the third glass
She came close to my life
And bumped into the table.
Her fingers were cold -
Alcohol seized the place.
We were drunk
Between two bottles and a lighter.
Her red lips
Stained my new shirt
And the night mingled with chaos
And Tears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The best stains are the stains of red lips on a shirt.