The look
The smell
The taste
Its calling
Heart pounding
Head spinning
That split sec
All things blurred.
Its calling
Body yearning
veins are pulsing
vision tunneling
Its calling
Blood is racing
Fingers burning
Body soaring
Its calling
Smells enticing
Knees are weakling
Lips are tingling
Teeth on fire
Tongue is folding
Its Calling
ME.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem