Hibernating Thoughts

Come to Calendar in little latish Dear March
Let my lustrous thoughts hibernate more
In the inscrutable, wintry brain of mine
and inside the esoteric womb of this heart
Let it be a foetus of paly eyes
Which out of insecurity do not measure heights
How do I tell thee March?
My thoughts are cherubic children
Who cuddle serpents after being deeply bitten
My white collared syllables can not armour them
Against lascivious pomposity of this universe
My thoughts like to fly high among galaxies and novas
I can not tell these toddler cells
A poison has inflicted upon their feathers from my contagious cancer
Before Spring sets on sale
the posh-ticket toys which I can not get them
Let my thoughts sleep
In long noontides of January
Come To Calendar in a little latish dear March....

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