Saw you on a Sunday -
reading your Bible,
bought you some candy -
got cuffed to your chair.
Wrote you in the Winter -
sonnets on lovers,
licked closed your letter -
sharp edge on my tongue.
Dreamed you on an eclipse -
gentle and probing,
woke on a thornbush -
my skin soaked with blood.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem