Scars have long.
Consumed my arms and legs.
But my eyes are your eyes.
Instead of prositutes for sex.
I have them pull up their sleaves.
From the cuff on up I look around.
Because I am straight except for this issue.
Unresolved.
I explain my need
as I am checked on a regular basis.
I give her one twenty and a scalpel.
Stating she states that anything extra is.
Illegal it might be a date.
She puts her arm in a plastic bag I made for this.
It is not done for this or that except.
No emotion is shown.
No erections.
No wetness by her exept for one red rose a thorn.
Four dark corners to both minds where I don't some will.
I move from this town to the next up the hill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem