My Poetry
The body rises on its palm
It takes a fist
The body rises in his eyes
Looks red roses
Do not see the plant
Eyes tightly
Stings hooks
Tears off by flipping
The rose pulls inside
Body is rising
In the smell of her hair
On the forehead
It covers up
Scurrilous
Tightly tied top
Then the body is growing
In its wrinkles
Body, behind
Ever rises ahead
The girl who runs
Behind her, again and again
Is gasping
Breaths with sweat
The body floats on it.
Follow 
