All the women
In the world
Are the same
Only different lacquer,
Hair in disarray
Or properly fixed,
Different whiff
Of perfume,
Varying penchants.
But still,
Why
In all of the
Similarities
And
Bewitching
Polarities,
Why do I see
A war-torn city,
A dead willow,
An immense night
That grows greater
And greater
In a flourish
Of ghastly sighs
A path fragmented
Into thousand seas
A woman who
Engages with a tiger
When I look
At you?
Pardon me,
I guess not all of them
Are the same.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Really great write! ! I like this one! !