words already were written down with the right hand,
will Muse maybe fall asleep of sweetness in a head?
But one crazy is from slaughterhouse returned,
all red on lips, blood drank there.
Curious eyes are terminating passion, still you are crazy,
a telephone is ringing among her legs and he is ringing.
Little girl my, you are being wrung as a lemon,
fitness became exercise of your instinct.
pittura Museo Ferrari Modena Andy Warhol
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good write, thanks, I invite you to read my poems and comment.