The sent of the animal is so much-needed,
to some.
Something much stronger when it's wet and
hot and moist.
Humid is the rain that falls on your head and
the heat as fire that burns you there,
laying in the mud.
Are you that which is discribed, aboveformentioned,
laying on your back,
Dreaming of deep in space, matter black that never seems to end worm holes.
Something moist within your mind and seeing something
else outside and falling deep within?
A purple rubber pole a rubber finger black to some
machine you lost your mind!
Wet and hot and moist forever more, such as that
discribed, you needed nothing else unless you choose to die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem