caress me, baby

by
Tenderness, —
I got to be wrapped...
Preciousness, —
wrap me, please...
I'm cold, —
Come... — Take me
 in the season of hell
with the drunken boat
of the Rimbaud
if you wanna, — or...
in the waste-land
with the cruelest April
of Eliot's, — but come...
come, caress me, baby

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as sweet as a sin...

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walk right in

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salut, — allez, bisous

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when the fire hits the sea

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back to one

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I love you… 𓇼 I love you in the grams of my soul with the cadences of my imagination 𓇼 I love you in the degrees of my body with the liters of my blood 𓇼 I love you in the magnetism of my thoughts with the seconds of my existence 𓇼 I love you in light's intensity of my nerves with the pressures of the fears 𓇼 I love you in the climaxes of my fantasies with the authentic explanations 𓇼 I love you in the composition of my smiles with irreproachable manners 𓇼 I love you zigzagging incoherently, thinking to stay to get back to the one who loved me 𓇼 in any metric system of the entire me… — I love you…
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