into you

young soul, spirit buoyant,
cocooned in explosive attires, —
i am

illustrated in feral content,
chicaning in feathery words, —
i'm felt

no wonder my poetry is me,
gesticulating, here and there, —
natural

that's why you recognize me
when you read it; i signed it, —
into you

you fade in my poetic number,
with… (un p’tit je ne sais quoi)
i do you

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