oh, you little one...
oh, you little one, — you look as if you'd been in the house of wolves composed or else, why, adequately, to play intimate strategies, just to occupy my thought with yours or both minds to be equally preoccupied to taste the whispers of one to the other or both mouths be guided by the magic drops of a soundless honey into the cosmic reveries or else why love is sculpted into the stars by the stars exactly as I'm here you're there, so-so passionately, dreaming