Must be delirious, I shook hands
with a seemingly sweet scorpion
A scorpion it was...
soon handed jarful poison
Was I aware of its miasma
neither kills nor lets life glow
I drank it though
let it constrict my nerves
or claim us both in slow.
I drank the poison and
spilled through my eyes
never letting to figure
it was pain or joyous cries
for I blended them well beneath
ever stretched smile
chary to reveal clenched teeth.
Here, hand me more of it!
I am loving the stings, Sweet poison
Barf until you empty all abomination
I shall endure
till the last drop seeks innocousness
if only a day
you care to cast a tinge of benevolence.
love to a person, eros love - is poison, it's good when it is sweet poison, not bitter, as in your poem!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Absorbed me till the end. Kept me conjecturing the effects of being stung and instilled with the love of sweet poison. Love is crazy. I liked the power of your fanciful verses and imaginings of the poison when sweet.
Thank you 😊