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
