A tingle arced across my scalp. the floor tipped up at me and my body spiraled away. Then I was on the ceiling looking down, waiting to see what would happen next. What happenedd next was that a perfect, straight line of blood bloomed from underthe edge of the blade. The line grew into a long, fat bubble, a lush crimson bubble that got bigger and bigger. I watched from above, waiting to see how big it would get before it burst. When it did, I felt awesone. Satistied, finally. Then exhausted.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem