I don’t want to be your doll;
Dolls are kept in show cases.
I don’t want to be your pillow;
Pillows aren’t wanted at day.
Neither shoes, idling at night,
Nor mother, a one side lover,
Do I want to be, my dear.
I want to be liquor in your belly
To activate you to my whims,
To respond to my needs
And to make me fly with wings.
12.02.2006
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem