It's been a long time
I shouldered Sorrow.
Not that I was gloomy.
Watching the corners
of her mouth droop
I felt she needed company.
Not that I wanted any.
We started to banter.
Reminisced Beaudelaire
and the Flowers of Evil.
Before I knew it
we lay together.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem