miracle
what a good, — that you are
what a marvel, — that I am
of the miracle you are
of the happening I am
like colors that never met
one too high, — one too low
yet identical, yet chess mate
yet you, yet doppelgΓ€nger
my coo-ca-choo
Poetic, – the hormones of music are invading my coo-ca-choo . The cadence of all my pleasures, it devils the agony in ecstasy. The tiny butterflies donate to me, every frenglishly frisson . With the ink's rhythm, my words are entrapping you, too. Admitting I'm not perfect, furtively, you deeply track my Essence . You're hooked on my Poetic Allusion , (my playlists ♪ your mood passkey).