The day I know who I am, why and how is known of me, I will be me, Me: free from thorns and petals that go round and round, in heads and heels, and would reveal me, me indeed!
Like a busy fairy smiling in its own melancholy on unending Friday nights, the loving wings of my realistic fantasies, spread themselves as wide as the sea.
My love is like a trigonometry problem simplified by my heart’s mint green genies, the broken being in me sings a million epiphanies, my life is but colors spilled in polaroids of caring butterflies.
