Sweet, your darling non-touch of what we can say is real,
you make me feel when the sun-streaks high-time your
birch-brown tasty hair beneath the deep and always sky,
above the gleam-gleam-glisten of the sparkle eyes, i
know to love to listen when we speak nothing-sweet to the
almost nobody i can sometimes seem to be that explains
these sweet, your darling dreams i dream of thee.