Sriti Tattooed Woman In The Stomach Poem by Ilham Q Moehiddin

Often seen crossing the base of the morning. The rain fell softly in the middle of this December. He was wet as the grass on the edge of the river. There's no waiting creeps. So my bad luck like. He crossed the base of the morning and wet. Wet like that, perhaps, was damp. However, I like.

I do not plan to see spots that tease: stained black and white dots. Spheres were silhouetted behind a wet cloth. On the abdominal skin and flirty. As I was planning to get drunk in her cheap perfume. I like it.

His smile was thrown down. I'm getting drunk, rocked the surge. I wonder who I am, perhaps, the start of our second meeting at the base of the other morning. I flew to her body. No one thin shirt. Merely a normal abdominal skin wet. My nose contaminated with cheap perfume.

I rocked the waves, Shedding my fingers on the Sriti bird tattooed on her belly, pale skin. Cheap perfume is making me drunk again. It's okay, because I like it.


(Kendari)