在柔软的透明亚麻布下面，
你乳头周围的那些小小突起

因为想到我的舌头而变硬。
你...向内蜷曲身体就像字母“C”

有意地弓起你的身体
迎向我嘴唇温暖的按压

什么盖在皮肤上都会是湿的
那皮肤汗毛树立，火热燃烧，

破碎成欲望的汗滴
那甘甜的想象力的果汁。

但事实上，我还没有碰到你。
至少，此刻还没有...

Under the soft translucent linen, 
the ridges around your nipples 

harden at the thought of my tongue.
You — lying inverted like the letter ‘c’ —

arch yourself deliberately
wanting the warm press of my lips, 

it’s wet to coat the skin
that is bristling, burning, 

breaking into sweats of desire —
sweet juices of imagination.

But in fact, I haven’t even touched 
you. At least, not as yet.