Your Essence Hides in Spaces

Your essence hides in spaces
Between words;
Your have an effervescent presence
That can't be measured or put into scores;

In the reflections of the mirror
I see your features and your view,
They're like freshness of the meadow,
That glows with morning dew...

I feel like I'm a chest of drawers,
Collections of  mundane impressions,
In my mind's eye they're never over,
Or go out of fashion;

They intercept and sometimes mingle
In sweet coincidences - poems,
You'll never guess, what they will bring,
And where the conclusion goes;

Your essence hides in your minds eyes
And speaks itself in Freudian slips,
Whichever reason will suffice
To be as witty as a whip...

From Note: