come; do you think that i will?
if ever.
and even thinking about it
the after birth.
when the cactus sheds it's
thorns
and the rose smells as if it
has been pulled
from else where.
and only then can you know
what i went through.
i will not by your panties any
more,
nor let you gather any left the
dew,
no matter how bad you feel
about it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
where did you get this thought from iip? what was in your mind when you wrote it?