You lied she said. Single stale crust of bread. She traced the frown lines on my head. I love the seagulls' cries she said.
She spread butter under peanut butter. My bladder wilted I pissed the bed: I need to find dry land she said!
Mine was verging on a heart that bled. Single stale crust of bread.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem