With you I'm begun,
no more a phantom,
a real one,
not a disguise,
always anew in lieu of a rerun,
With you I am always me
not an appellation to recognize.
So
I sell my heart to you
because there is a true customer
in your eyes.
::
In this bruised ambiance of exile,
in this shopping isle,that there are no more stockpiles,
of pristine smiles,
-for laughter is feigned, vile,
for sweetness is out of style,-
I look at you
and my heartbeats brim over
like gushing gullets of sparrows,
like blue lilies
of the Nile.
::
I give my heart to you
this beehive
suckling your iris to survive,
bursting splendour in taste buds
rather than
in the eyes,
turning thirst to floods,
turning blooms to honey
in lieu of glittering
butterflies.
