drive

by
even now, your thoughts give
glitter to my air, scratching
with free verses, some deeds,
where once, we allowed us
to paint strategically, our word
with tints rooted in our drive

poetic audience

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king & queen

by
the one I love... the one who loves me… (ahem…) both [know nothing about sex...] 🀣 I don't make fellatio I don't respond to cunnilingus... [or anything like this...] 🀭 we try to discover each other using only our fingers to play… [Rummikub…] πŸ€ͺ other days and nights, we watch just TV, or listen to our music, [dancing... rare‧ly] 🫣 tonight we will play again, [on our bed], Macau, Scrabble, or Chess, [of course...] 😁 our juice will be sipped using more than II tactics, until we'll put us in [checkmate...] πŸ˜‰ the fantasizing strategy wears our pet name, he's my king & queen is me [in love's realm]
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another story

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Dear dizzy fall day from this time of the year, even if it seems to be the season of the witch, I dunno what kind of strategy are you trying. To be accurate, I didn't imagine our dating be so grayish and cold and without your golden and brassy and cuddled and warm sunshades. Fortunately, I was inspired to put on me some perfume with sprightly notes, enough for avoiding any wrong situation, also to reinvent another story, with each part of your sun, inclined on me, to look shinier. Guess that could be one of your deep excuses, in your hurry to see me, and is accepted. Yet, do whatever's necessary to fix up your mood. Even implore a competent one for a prescription… — P.S. — (Do it AΛ’SᡒᡒⁿAΛ’Pᡒ˒˒ⁱᡇˑᡉ). Winter knocks.
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ready or not

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with a vestment tissued in a veil of steam, the morning, like a dream, arose scented at my window with an aim to provoke me to adopt the guise of an irresistible blaze fine chaired by a playful beam of the sun sleepy, without knowing if it's ready or not, any beam of the moon have been let it ride through the essences of my luring nights controlled by the spell of your lavishly kiss sent to feel you as if I'm so close I can taste it
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somebody who cares

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It's sinister to wait for someone to remember about your existence. Sometimes, departing from there, it's the only way to show the emptiness which remains in that place. Therefore, choose never to look back again. It's an equitable action. Offer it as if it's a declaration of love… a sublime orgasm totally lacked, but teases the blood with its heat. Offer it, like a drug that's given by a song, found exactly like has been created, in poetry suspended in its own mΓ©canisme. There are enough blossomed dreams and time, for somebody who cares, to invoke any memory… (one who cares).
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until...

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— « Can you tell me in a short complete sentence  featuring no words over two syllables, why exactly  I  am  in these pictures? — Theoretically, if you go to the past in the future, then your future lies in the past. This is a picture of you in the future — in the past.  — Say that again.  │ — Until?   │  — until...until...»
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strawberry love

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it's late at night… I'm reading your words written with the ink of your molecules 𓇼 they exude, ⟮drop by drop⟯, love, hope and joy; ⟮that exciting motley DNA of yours⟯ 𓇼 a few minutes just have flown, — I smile... ⟮don't you feel our situationship as a gift?⟯ 𓇼 with you is spring, is birds' chirp in May, is strawberry love and scent you breathe 𓇼 with me… is the obsession's atmosphere; it's ⟮mine in yours…⟯, it's ⟮yours in mine…⟯
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what I'm looking for

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he understood, — statement of own responsibility, it was not what I was looking for, so he took my body's fever by reading my mind 𓇼 skilled, he moved in my phone running in my palms, following the line of my life with the art's attitude, to become the geometry of my passion 𓇼 he learned to moisturize my lips, murmuring incandescent with his degrees in my optical rotation, using like a weapon, the kiss 𓇼 patiently and timed innocently by our passion's chronometer, love lavished us the equilibrium of its sublime echo with high notes
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coffee

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in an antagonistic dream [refined] between time and space [quoted] a coffee's steam has slid furtively to one of my anesthetized shades 1stly, it combed my untamed spirit  2ndly, it woke my naughty smile 3rdly, it adjusted my breath to [his] [all the others came naturally…]
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velvety skin

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his lips, in a flash, got stuttered at the threshold of my lips ▫ and yet, his love, — meticulously, it rushed straight into my heart ▫ passionately and elegantly, and, fast and furious, he took my longs ▫ chic, he sowed, on the velvety skin of the love I am, — his love
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temptation

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humorously, the morning sun focused its ray of light thru the tiny rustic branches of an appetizing basket, where chaotic, seductively, delicious, and arrogantly, each lusty temptation for some ripened grape clusters that've debuted their ecstasy, metamorphosing the full view into a wildish passion, macerating chic desire's sap about what you think I think, — (hmm... this sun had much fun)
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