see
i am bitter
my face shows it
i am
bitter
but touch me
i am warm as warm as a set of
hen feathers laying
eggs
on a nest of dead grass
kiss me, taste my lips
i am sweet
you got me wrong with what you see
you feel me, and kiss me
you will find the truth in this wrong
situation,
i am not afraid, for now.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem