I'm dubious, submissive
I count flaws like calories;
hide them in the small of my back
I feel compelled to keep track.
I'm quizzacal, ressistant
I keep my eyes locked up
and I throw away the key,
don't want to see what's around me
I'm lyrical, frivolous
I jump over state boundaries
with every intention to leave
but it's not just by the mouth that we decieve
But with you I feel there are no sides to this box
Muddled in the snow,
but it seems just right
It's a pretense,
but we keep on calling
Wherever it is that I feel your hand,
I'll know.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem