However the skin when pushes springs back.
Your love of the spike brings the blood to a boil.
Breath the first time which is sharp.
Face glistens and shines each dropp of sweat.
Becoming tense each second is tense is directed.
Biting the end the mammary organ clear secretions.
Pain is done pleasure it comes in waves.
My crooked right foot is your weak point.
All the marks of stop but don't quit is not shame.
Should I play with her left hand
as I squeeze her foot and cause her toes in my other?
I am even handed when it comes to the heart the place,
the deep scar is undamaged, by me, I am whom you are.
And do not make me shout to breathe
as you make me dig deeper you scream out my name.
Make an end to your compilation my vigor of my is yours.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem