I Dream of lips soft and full
and they pull me up and down
and they push me back so deep.
And I slide back down the brink.
Your forest is quite and the moon
hangs down over my tan face
and your silhouette leans
over and pulls me back inside.
The milk you drink does flow and
lays thick like cream on your lips,
and you came up to this farm for
butter and cream late every night.
The woods now are all over your face
and with you each night I lay in the forest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem