My son is my sun

My dear son,

I always cross the hazy mountain to see you

Wash my dirt of shame with the holy foams

And have to get searched by the patrols

Only to encounter with your markings.

But yet I shall have not soared through the Louvre

To meet with Monalisa

Rather be a drone if needed

Would be an airborne in my indescribable dream

Or haunted like chiaroscuro into the festival of colors.

My son is my sun

I ‘m within you and

You’re within me!

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