Oh but what a sight for sore eyes! 
Six four, orangutan arms and gun metal eyes that narrow like a bird of prey.
I feel ' congested ' when I think of your touch.
I feel congested all of the time.
We flow together like original sin.
Pure instinct drives this engine!                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                     
                
engines of instinct we are or churchfolks