We cuddle up in the caramel of Botticelli springs
A humble tapestry caught the rebus of incense breeze
Hard crossing through the surrealist fullerene fig trees;
The colors abide by the season`s changeable kilt;
The buckyonions wind is absolved from all guilt
Because it abstained from voting a real change;
Now it`s ready to accede to any invisible cage.
In the marten`s leap, in the squirrel`s frozen fear,
Recollections are swimming in a single sacred tear.
I don't know what I said, I don`t know how to take
The words that may hurt each other, old mistake
Ready to haunt the white season`s forgotten things;
We cuddle up in the caramel of Botticelli springs.
Glass paradise in state of neglect, like the newest art
Spread minute pictures with spices pretty piquant,
In which only the sunflower turns its blond nape.
The pale diamond still rests in the future`s gape;
But scientist knows the finely signs that remind
The fullerene trees and the buckyonions wind
As horizon of destiny and impenetrable restriction;
Our hug seems interstellar medium UV extinction.