Break our forms when touching,
Then fall our hearts to die,
And chaffe our skin when we Begin,
But Love holds you and I.
I need a soul to dry with mine
So never be it lonely.
A soul to creak, and tear and dry.
A soul: my one and only.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You know, I really liked the idea, gave a spooky yet loving feeling.