I don't want your whispers,
Of sweet nothings in my ear.
I want...
To carve our love into your belly,
Carve a heart into your arm.
I don't want sweet nothings,
I want permanent reminders,
Scars.
A symbol everlasting
In which will never dim.
Those pleasantries shall disappear,
so why bother to sigh into my ear?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem