I like Angelina full lips
Nose a tad hooked at end
And who the hell wants
Legs that end before
Beginning
Skin a perfect match
With Indus bred wheat
A dove argues with the crow
Fingers with the pill
Drone of life descends
On a yet another
Sun bathed day
I unstich a unhealed
Wound, shut daily diary of Id
I've come together with
Day without arguing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem