Are you waiting in that unknown hotel
spreading your soft and healthy thighs
Are you waiting for me
in your nothingness with a cup of tea
Your manners are standing
Your shame is lying on a blue bed
Is it your routine dawn to dusk
Your laughter changes
on your restless thighs
Your dress bites your skin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
sensorship needed... genuinely