A
Fact from her eyes:
ice, rover, roll over, tilt, punch, pitch
itch, and scratch me now.
tangle, untangle, mingle, bungle,
clip, and flip me like any burger,
cause you are the cook, a chef, a healer, my cover, my roof, my ceiling, and my shingles.
turn and burn one side of me
and leave the other side for another day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem