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