In my room

Nothing's more predictable

Than an Eiffel tower, 

Rolling around my nauseous head, 

Exploding in my heart

Among long days of silence,

Long nights of freezing dreams, 

Numerous amazing moves

In a game of creativity. 

You used to be my guest,

A heartless yet sensitive creature, 

A lonely spider

Looking for a dragonfly to taste

Without destroying its feeble wings.

In my room

You used to be a ray of light,

You used to be 

My platonic passion, 

A zephyr in my scarlet sails.