Weave me br into your splendid colours br and infuse me br in your delusions br br With the vehemence br of a sleeper br throw in the fire br of your leonine grace br br I am an empty cup br and my spirit yearns br for the intermittent light br of a dreamy flight br br I long for a kiss br under twilit canopies br and sepulchral mist, br I long with a sibilant fist br br And for every br unreciprocated tremble br I strop the scythes br of my death even sharperbr br Norman Santosbr br