this box of aluminum fresh
cookies teasing my tongue
sugar cove melting to taste
confusing my inner organs
that would tone down acids
eating away process crumbs
i wonder why you're so picky
you shy away from broken cookie
flavor didn't change just shape
your lips tells you 'wants whole'
if you do that to your friends
i'm wondering 'who you got left? '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem