Oh but what a sight for sore eyes!
Six four, orangutan arms and gun metal eyes that narrow like a bird of prey.
I feel ' congested ' when I think of your touch.
I feel congested all of the time.
We flow together like original sin.
Pure instinct drives this engine!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
engines of instinct we are or churchfolks