I wanted you to be free, it was all about you even the fiction but you lost your shape and I made you into different characters. Yet it was the spirit of you, and even if I dreamed you into a demon; I could still see your body hologram through each careless escape. You slip like silkiness out of my fiction, as I change the color of your hair, and eyes, as I decipher you into a rose. You could be put into anything not because I wanted to change you but because everything I loved became you; I use your human extract for the abstraction of our youth, chasing love into streets where lovers like us don’t know what defeat is.
