all tangled up

by
the look of love got you in my beauty,
found and displayed in the jungle
of your fugitive dreams, all tangled up
and duly possessed by incantations
with details created in an auto-da-fé,
like a backbone shaker who adores
to invade my DNA, to spin through me
till compose my happiness, mastered
in all what's written but not described,
having an identity but not exposed...
while holy glance looks so awesome
in the window of a sensible address


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