with my straight wooden edged
mirrored your face in my razor
only on you could i make you would
cut around your lactating nipples
soft that one place goes around and around
the barbers spiral
on your wrist
the bottom button would
barely discernible
it would slightly bleed out and between but
the inside of those tanned silky thighs
Mary Kay she covers up
Olive,
the bulls that are hung up to bleed quickly out, O'lay
lips cut apart that are grown back together
drinking coconut milk waiting to heal
waiting i wait until we are again
back together.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem