the hands are busy
and the mind busier
the heart is
activated and blood
corpuscles are like
tourists
roaming around the
great wall of china
on top of bed
those pair of legs face the ceiling
and the mouth cannot say
any word
the tongue slips again
trying to figure out
the right word
for this
it is not about love...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem