In desire we sever,
With a long and short arm's keeper.
Grand and forever,
We whet the Beaver Heaver.
Only now I understand how love Pegs;
In convulsion of desire between your legs.
And as for the integrity in pursuit;
It's wasting dignity and becomes convolute,
Since you simply will not understand,
That in the shadow of a man's gland,
His apprehension maintains destitute.
If there really is such a thing as shared love,
How come a woman of your spirit so far above,
Translates truth upon such a byzantine pledge,
Since all you need is a Bolster to wedge.
In desire we sever,
With a long and short arm's keeper.
Grand and forever,
We whet the Beaver Heaver.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem