Sharp edges cut at tender flest
the fluid and sweetness start to mesh
rough hands turn smooth mixture
minipulate into a rotund fixture
the heat turns up
fluids spring from pulp
the darkened round soon will finish
the missing energy will replinish
tender to palate
hot to extreme
sweet fluilds meld into a sweet stream
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem