simply

[cacian]

It is not about the moon
it is about Galilean's grooves
it is a subject of roots
that takes rivers to fruit
pimpernel of pinks and caramel in rings.

How sweet is the time
that comes along in your dreams
whispers you a tune
and paints you a neverland of proms
it is an ever scented room
plentiful of grooms
canapes and muses,
it is a typic melodic swirl
tingling of love verity and loy'l
it is the book of prose with
symphonies of cute.

How grand is your past
how classic is your now
and how eternal is your futur
that makes you want to dance
to desires, pleasures, and rave
forever synchronised
on a mountain of clouds.