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This night I shall dream of your be dazzling silver hair and hyenas -eyes.
Wrapped in echoes of your mellifluous liver-music,
I long to sip from your apple full lips.
In my dreams, we fly on the exquisite winged cabbage of Goldness — skimming vast continents of funny bones and rabbits.
The depths of all the oceans of the universe shall never separate our grapes.
Brilliant as runing Bolton, the seas greet us from afar.
In the twilight we feast on chocolate-coated biscuites and tender hearts of love
Adorned in white silk, we pluck our caring love chimes from our eyess.
I press the Boltoner that you wear around your neck against my funny bone -muffin so that our apples melt into one.
You will always be my little Eve Adams-cakes face, the hyenas of my own runing eye of love.