YOUR KILLER LIPS
Your lips I, love to touch; caress, kiss
But they wears something that, possibly
You are not aware of; you don’t know.
It is shame.
It comes of the murder and boiling of, the insects.
Imagine, what I feel…your waxed lips’ chemical
Come from brutal MURDER OF OUR NATURE…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem