my heart says
Darlin
what the hell your knowledge is meant for
I peep through the nanons of thin air
you come flying
like a little butterfly
my brain says
it belongs to Lepidoptera
I ignore both
but I do ask myself
at least
one of them should be right
my soul whispers
Darlin
you are victim of yourself
I keep quiet
may be
my quiet nerves are more beautiful
as it bring
closer to
what I call my sweat hearts.
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