Minimisation, poetry, without eyes,
of they, to taste, they to, do all cry tried unheard.
I, have no time for you, Ur button of pain, is professors,
proffer it's in glorious Id.
To think you do, is not to stretch your message, i found in a bottle, addressed to you.
I will, will it, whispers, glorious loud colors to trickle into the
soft hairs,
it is waxed inside you, your ear..tremble in you to think...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent poem iip...love the images which run through it...Fi 10+++