This nature of me,
the skin over my bones over my poetry,
I've missed this tender discourse,
the rhyme and reason of my slight frame held against glass.

I see myself better when I'm not trying to cry,
and I'd left this naked art so long
I could no longer tell the difference between
a night with stars and a night without.

This is buttermilk to starvation,
drowning twice and coming up for air.
The first mouthful aches like forestfire,
by the third I am a gulping animal.

Nowadays your eyes sparkle as dawn;
And smiling is like the song of morning air,
Seeing me why you look so fair?

People call me fairy, flower, moon,
What do you think of me, please say,
What? Am I forestfire? Uncontrolled fireplay?

Then will you be insect to die?
Dying for love is very happy matter?
Stay away like stars and that's much better.

Are you scared of scandal? I feel not a bit,
I enjoy your offended mood a lot really,
One day I'll ****** something precious of yours suddenly.

Think constantly what I can ******,
What pricey thing belongs to you to be lost?
Your heart? Give it to me, I will play gliding on frost.