visions of my own

my preferred color, —

it's your touch

in words combined,

from music brought

by susurrus of muses,

to allow me to say, —

your access to my color

seems comparable with

the whisper of angels,

delicately manifested

into a part of me,

where is impossible

to oppose resistance

but only to create

visions of my own,

with increased passions

for making you feel

as if I'd be everywhere