my love is building a building... (XII)
my love is building a buildingaround you, a frail slipperyhouse, a strong fragile house(beginning at the singular beginningof your smile)a skilful uncouthprison, a precise clumsyprison(building thatandthis into Thus,Around the reckless magic of your mouth)my love is building a magic, a discretetower of magic and(as i guess)when Farmer Death(whom fairies hate)shallcrumble the mouth-flower fleetHe'll not my tower, laborious, casualwhere the surrounded smile hangs breathless