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