the future is golden

by
you have no idea
how many languages
speak my soul
how many translations
makes my mind
how many loves, i loved
how many loves loved me
and how they got old, —
coquetting with
the future... [is golden]

you have no idea
how my fragrance
splits their thoughts
kissing their dreams,
provoking their pulse,
their smile,
their heartbeats
to flee out of troubles
or any other pressure,
[you haven't, have you?]

—

[neither do i...]

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