All remains
her perfume in my clothes
her lipstick on my cheek
her scent on my fingers
her taste on my tongue
bathed in flames of lust
Cupid's arrow of love
pierces my beating
open heart
the perfume will wash out
the smudge will fade
the scent will disperse
the taste will subside
my surface will be cleansed
but that fiery arrow...
should I douse the flames
the arrow would still ache
should I rip the arrow out
each beat would bleed me more
should I mend the wound
then my heart would be
scarred and closed
should I? I should not
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem