Let me go away from you
and from your hugs. The kitchen was ready
to bake you in moonlight.
I had decided to remove
my thumbs. World was going to
win to burn the books for a cult.
The author sits quietly.
Smiles at poison in milk. Why does she
want to play with the asps like Cleopatra?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem