Aesthetically perfect
Lustfully alive-
joyfully wild
he smells like wet wood
he looks like autumn
He hurts.
His eyes are dry
and his heart emptyMy best friend we'll
hold our hands forever-
wipes my tears away my lover_
while we walk under
these trees_
Will I be your
precious little girl
until the last day?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
our posters are blank viewer can estimate any opinion but dares to look into we look for a colourful bird and gets only black and white heheheheh nice to you urs UA