I got stained to a halt last night
The color of her innocence
washing over me in waves
the beautiful lies
stuck in my throat
stuck in the tacky
white
she poured over me
that dried
to a high gloss
covering,
overwhelming me
the pristine soul
at once
an aphrodisiac and a drug
stunting the growth
of thoughts and deeds
best reserved
for older trees
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem