I have so much to say my love,
But this prolonged protected fornication between
My mind and my heart is keeping them
From producing the babies of emotions
That can be conveyed to you in no time,
Verbally and orally; but
I know not what pleasure they get
In this uncanny act inside me, and
They know not that the pleasure is not mine,
For I bear the pain, the fluid loss.
So keep the moaning down; I beg,
And allow me to be vulnerable and yourselves as well,
Let the soul be the judge of our fate,
Let her be the mother and voice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem