My sweetheart is a man's man heiress
Her man must be a carbon copy of Jupiter, her father,
An alpha, a beta, a kappa, an omega male altogether
A carpenter by trade,
The epitome of masculinity
Who could solve any math problem in a second
And knew how to fix everything
A car, electric, plumbing
A family hero, a handy man
Who built houses from the ground up
He could swaddle a baby's nightmare properly
Open doors to the winds of sadness
And pull chairs to the lights of happiness
And he could dress every day to the nines
Infusing in her heiress forever wine 's bouquet
And the love of animals.
So consequently
My sweetheart is an animal 's animal heiress
She eats meat only  if it has a label on it
Saying that animals are not  caged
Or mistreated in anyway.

I feel so dizzy seeing
the dancers in the square,
their shadows are flying
into a royal dimension,
like they are some riders
of the eternal flame,
the eclipse of doubt is
no longer in my attention.
Their eyes are speaking some
exotic and tropical truth,
that no one could ever
really understand,
they are like saviours
in the moonlight,
I'm impressed by their youth,
like paradise phantoms, in front
of the chaos, they never bend.
It's like going through a fine portal
into the arena of a ******,
where the hands of the virtue
are touching the house of arts,
she's the heiress,
she's our destiny's surgeon,
blowing away the storms
from the paradise of our hearts.
It's like we all gathered
in a fiery reunion
in which victory rises
from the empire of dance,
the pattern of the wind and
clever masks are in communion,
melting this silence
in a memorable romance.

Petals scatter with sweet honey from the hexagonal sun
And drip their nectar unto the heiress’s staff’s bun
Her lips shine with the yellow blood of her little wasp enemies
Disguised with a soft and young smile that’s hidden breathlessly
The young ruler’s snow hair dissolves into sweet sprinkles of canary
And her golden eyes shall unleash a sting into whoever she shall marry

Sealtest was
substantial when
hormones agreed
that faith
did declare
profane minion
if heiress
of ice
cream would
certify a
revival in
social justice
that buries
hatchet to
enhance a
ticket of
wayward soul.