I am wearing a glove, see it here on my hand,
The glove I intend to be part of myself.
A riddle is hidden under the glove,
Sweet to remember, leading thought to dark.

Here on my hand sweet sensation does rest
Of slender fingers of prettiest hand.
And just like a song that keeps playing in me
My friend the glove keeps reminding of thee.

Each has a riddle which leads us to dark
I have my glove as a sweet memoir
The glove I intend to keep on till time
Of our next meeting, reunion time.