HE..
wanted a sweet reek
of honey bee
succulent, yellow, bright in those insane nights
lost in that viscous, thick liquid
he delight yourself…alone
sniffing, deeply, licking softly
prolonging his painful heartbeat
so attractive and suddenly changing the color
crimson…crimson…
mixed with a sense of inbred hate, frustration
addicted in a shell, stuck in a cage…..
but sweet at the end….
SHE
smelling as limonade
green, liquid, transparent
acid…
water….water
diving in dreams, in poetry and love
wrapped in ink, canvas, brushes
being alchemist trying to reach
the perfect damp ….the moist
the end
what that mix can be?
This reminds me of an old English poem. What are little boys made of? Slugs and snails and puppy dogs tails. What are little girls made of.? Sugar and Spice and all things nice. Your version is so much more emotional, feminine and enchanting.
The proper ingredients… added in just the right proportions… and mixed well…a delightful concoction satisfying to the senses … well penned poet!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Alright, caught you! This is not from this planet! Eye Like~~