Arranged around my mouth
There are trigger hairs
When touched,
The teeth clamp down
In the poor soil
Of a beach or marsh
The sun rays
Must be supplemented
By the souls of flies
I had seen how you devoured them:
Captured, covered,
And danced from safe strand
To drained prey
And I asked you to promise
To make me replete with your fangs
Guessing you could avoid my traps...
So I'm sorry for when I took your leg
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem