young love
he’s the best thing in my life;
he’s the angel
the music I’ve waited for all my life;
this is the man nature dictates
I’ll open my vulva to
old love
twenty-five years of married life,
three children and now what have I had from him?
I keep things together;
all the years it has been this way,
and pain;
and even the children say to him: ‘We are with mother’.
There is no love; it is closed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem