A Glance Of Thoughts

Mine heart is satiated with butterfly riddles,
a silken wide dreamland garden that flutters.

It is template of mine bed,
which camouflaged the glimpse of mine heart.

It is no myth,
but a granite riddle.

It is all crystalline,
be not blind to see it for the blind sees not it.

Though deaf sees it,
they can’t tell it.

The smoke of it all,
be broomed with sweet lips.

The furling dust of it all,
rustle with dulcet melodies.

Don’t be too kind to kiss me,
for it might not be your last.

Don’t be too comfortable whilst hugging me,
for your hands might not blossom.

If all this be not my writing,
mine hands be cut thereof.

If all those spread thoughts be true,
mine fanciful mind be let warm.