Come sit up on my wooden swing
Before I grow like a flower - Blossom -
And yank you away by the skinny wrist.
The wretched wrist with a wrinkle without enlargement.
My enlargement.
Freedom will wave her
Juicy wide leaves
Above your young hand.
After you stretch a short
Arm up for them – grab the green scented prizes.
Prizes signed by Sensuality
Above the swing. Do you
And Curiosity wonder
If I can reach them from for both of you?
Maybe if the branches lend me them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem