Your smile,
An automatic gunfire barrage,
A closed-lip firing squad,
Viet Cong ambush subtlety.
Your body,
a yellow Camellia,
preaching my name,
a call-to-arms demand.
Your sex,
is a syringe,
a prime naked injection,
an overdose of nighttime,
desire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem