She looks firm as an apple sausage
in its pig skin and when easing
out of her corseted flesh
she flows like honey
She would look much better
in flowing pants but when she turns
with a slight limp
her eyes meet mine
In that momentary twinkle
I love everything about her
even her ankles that funnel
into pear-like hips
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem