How many of us have you crushed?
About as many as you've sucked
The life out of.
That space separating love
From hatred lately is small—
Starting from answering
Your every call,
To having my ring
Not picked up at all,
And your ring
Brought back to the mall.
My name can be screamed
In much too many
Ways for me
To recall,
Yet I'll still vainly fall
For your shiny twin,
Lolled.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem