</>Listening to the music does not mean my body is free
i still need to continue a dance with my future husband.
he is not far away, not transparent as well
art needs talents, and i've cropped some in my hell
my godfather teaches me to eye the affectionate catkin
teaching me to live without weapons in hands
half-expectingly, you smile when you sob
you say you like my hair bobbed
if i were a swan, you're a cob.
however artistic it is, i 'm still very
Hungry! ! ! ! ! ! !
bring me to an eatery,
and this will be crafted into a full world, full memory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem