an angry wind blows by and sets you hair on fire
like autumn-leaf in flames you’re dragged on trails of ashes
a rain falls over us, a rain like a coarse choir
a rain that wets the soul & that the dark inspires

enraged, you tear the cloak of affection & care
& show a deeper flesh: the naked flesh of  pain
–gorgeous magnolia annoyed by sore, merciless sun
flower that hates the kissing of bright dew at the dawn

how young you look–oh my–when mad you never talk
how youngster I am too carrying with my hands
fresh songs, flowery lines in wild, perfumed, lush bunch
for that young queen of mine that free me without words:

my young girl of the combatant, dominant wimp & cry
that gets  all what she wants with the smile of her eyes