Wrap me around thy throat,
like a winter-muffler, the warm wool;
blanket of your eyes.

The night shall pass by the roadside,
thoughts of the distance
wheeling the carts of my needs.

.

Butterflies unseen, those were
feeding off the jars full of candy floss
eyes panned with kindness-smile.
My skin spoke in glee;
little of your wild spree
day and night I lay;
among, who knew what, would me stones you would dent me with.

Little did I know,
the muffler of this winter
shall be the noose of the next;
suffocating me;
akin to a stranglehold.