Do you like this my own poetry?

Sensational it is when in the half-shadow which conceals diverse tones, you gaze into a flame and you see the light that runs through it, which fills it, which belongs to it, which illuminates it with yellow, red, light red, orange, blue, violet – yes, even violet – because whoever said that a flame was only yellow and stale as when it appears trapped in those lifeless oil paintings? No, she is impalpable and vibrant, dancing beside you, and you can hear her sweet, harmonious cries with the emotions that you feel. And you close your eyes, after having glimpsed her for infinite moments without pause, during which never did she show shyness, but ever freedom, individuality in her moving lightly, never losing her colour. You close your eyes, you close your eyes and you continue to see her – little, red, in your head, in the dark, in your mind’s eye, thought without confines. And it is there that she shines