Sweet, the taste of her innocence,
An accomplishment in which I take pride
She molded herself into me so quickly
A bystander might not have guessed it her first time
But I knew better, with ever well placed touch
I was unlocking many doors
That otherwise would have stayed shut to the world
Leaving her always wanting, needing more
Would have left her trapped inside herself
Hopeless to escape on her own
She would have sank deeper into herself
Hidden behind the thick vines that would have grown
Concealing her inner passions
Scorching her soul with what was left of the unfed flame
I am empathetic to her urgent desire
For once I was punished with the same.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem