Everything shines in the morning,
they shine and whine and hurt me,
the Sundays sit sly and wait
they hurt me baby, they mock me
The water in the shower, cold
our love making on the wall,
distant memories, they meet,
my love down the drain, they cry
The rug on the floor bleeds
our love making seeps in the floor
they hurt me, darling, these scents
our raw hunger painted, they hurt me
baby my darling, the love you gave me
the prayers i prayed for you,
the kisses you took, the roses i picked,
everything burns, everything hurts
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
fine lines, , , natural and goes deeper than any thing on the carpet, , , , , , ,10