At first there was some titillation
then, hush my darling, fornication,
describing it, as a sensation
I'd say it is infatuation.
You ask me now, what it may be
you notice a dysharmony
I answer, if I were a glove
you'd be inside me as my love.
The few, the proud, the internecines.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
that about SUMS it up.