Daughter of my in laws,
What shall I compare thee to,
That even the best words are shy,
To comprehend a twin line for your dimple,
Nor to compare the prints of your wits to the coil,
Perhaps these fancy words ain't just shy but also guilty.

Of all the love language,
Tell me the one that behold your heart,
Is it the language of romance to be kissed,
Or maybe the language told to me in vulgar latins,
Somewhat the ones spoken in Enrique Iglesias' albums,
Still I ask, or is it the language that says "angel don't speak" .

Tell me in which fancy drapes,
Would you prefer to dress your smiles,
Must it just be naked for the world to see,
In which vows, would you like them to be drenched,
Stars are with crescent held, sky are with the clouds,
Music are with beats, so does you with the smiles.

Of what thoughts
Do you perceive on the mirror of your eyes,
When your lips meet, what messages are in stored,
Are they woven in a calla lily rose, conveyed in a poem,
Suppose you'd make a yawn, would you catch my breath,
I'm with the questions and you are with the answers.