i'd fly

by
I love

but simply, I don't know
if today's love is the same as yesterday, but
I can swear, — (without attention to details)
that makes me feel as if I'd fly
⋯
I love

and I don't know, — why the day of yesterday
behaved enormously bizarre and
didn't talk about what aptitude it has,
when inside me, conceptual,
today looks like the old day's one
⋯
I love

but simply, I don't know
if today's texture will be equivalent to yesterday's,
but I'm expecting everyone to handle
with time's translation of the adored one's
⋯
and I don't know again, but all of me
transpires the colors and enthusiasm, 
bearing the diverse passions' silhouettes
today... like yesterday... to love... because
⋯
you love

but simply, you don't know
how heightened love will push you up to fly


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