And she rubbed Poem by Paul Bogaert
And she rubbed
And she rubbed
over her legs.
‘I can arrange and turn on voyeurs in such a way
that they no longer long to be a part of something else.'
She opened a jerrycan of Dettol.
She freshened up the water and reclined in it.
‘Really nice and fresh', she said, ‘this ancient water is nice and fresh
again. Come and join me. With your dodgy connections
and your perceptions.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 12:40:12 PM # 1.0.0.1119
