If I could,
I would lick off all the invisibility that you've worn
and drag you back to the cyclone of existence.
Leading to the ambit of dream and drown you in every fraction of its elixir,
Until you woke up all the dead buried underneath the graveyard that you've created within you.
I will spit fire over your frozen spine enough to heal all the parts you've killed that once loved,
And let all the light left in you shoot through the patches of your bones
you've never tried to heal.
After I've sucked all the cold out of you,
And you are strong enough to emit the blades of the ethereal light I hope,
You do realise
That I'm falling for you, as fast as the thermometer drops in a Blue norther,
right in the middle of spring.