How much I love myself -
Even scary - like a jam.
I lick again and again
All myself by poem tongue.
And there is one more I love.
As a cherry she is ripe,
I fly to her in the dark,
in the depth without respite.
And we cuddle, and we jingle,
Give as kids a loud cry,
then again we run both slipping,
Luck, and stitching and a rhyme!
Everyone has his own Language.
Immured in the algorithms.
Only yours - found way inside me,
And it sings a merry jingle!
It responded and it's pealing,
It is echoing by dance.
And the soul flies to greet you,
living with you day and night!