Birthday

I quickly opened the last page of the leather memorandum.
Your day is coming my way.
Your reckless smile, and your mean green eyes
Are gazing through my solitary
Auschwitz.
You were born today.
Oh, you
You were never supposed to be insane.
Raise up ten million hells, and hide Persephone in
Her eternal nightingale.
London birthmark. London scars.
Moroccan sunrise. Moroccan sunset.
Guinean smiles. Guinean tears.
Your Stuttgart firewall, and Kilimanjaro heights.
Will never resist to my made up minds.
You're going places!
More than those places that you went through last summer.
Beyond the eternity,
And up above the hot air balloon.
You're growing higher!
Wiser than the last time we broke the guitar strings on the staircase.
(Thirty two blooming flowers in my windowsills are whispering poetical lyrics.)
I wish you all the strength, dearest.
The beauty of the universe are surrealistically yours.
In the darkest paradise, we will all
Survive.