all of the stars

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count down all the stars from the base of our love's bed
till the end of our passion's bed, then look to the galaxy,
garnished with the scent of lust, longing, and emotions,
(their enchanting fulgurations are sprinkled all over us)
 

poetic audience

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Salut, — (facilitates dialogs) ▫ Water, — (life's elixir) ▫ Sugar, — (silhouette issue) ▫ Food, — (anxiety factor) ▫ Hobbies, — (therapy experience) ▫ Work, — (didactic effort) ▫ Admirers, — (transitory phase) ▫ Family, — (moralistic interaction) ▫ Love, — (perfection's test) ▫ Hope, — (multiplicated missions) ▫ Writing, — (suggestive interplay) ▫ Today, — (dream's scenario) ▫ Mood, — (unique identity) ▫ Myself, — (free mind) ▫ Story, — (three words) ▫ Coco Deep Blue
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Shangri-La

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repose calls to take a moment for myself, while i love you with the stars on my lips ▫▫▫ with crossed legs, my meditation retells to my starved fantasies, how to hold you ▫▫▫ breathtaking experiences are unleashing my joy's metaphor, written in a future tale ▫▫▫ illustrated so, the upward spiral of my sin, weaves a symphony with hugs and kisses ▫▫▫ as a result, on nights and days' sleeves, a song, (at least), it'll echo in your mind …about me
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universe

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today, the sky looks at me with nerve ‧ it influences me to feel as if i were all that it is ‧ touched by ideas, i got into an eerie vibe ‧ …who's the sky's sun …who's the sky's moon‽ ‧ …could be my universe to be its muse ‽ ‧ in a wink, sky's canvas exposed the poetry I am ‧ i look at the sky, i see me sky looks at me, sees itself ‧ (who am i…‽) (both, together, asked at once)
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  the loyalty of an impeccable, known " l'grand solitaire ", it is a hobbyist of dreams that's revising its priorities, adopting passionately and yet furtively, a love's course ‧ it knows that fate will not be blamed for sloppy games of the ignorant folks who fail to adjudge that a schism it is just another way to spend time with the lovely one ‧ after all, a dream has dreams to remember… by and by
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an explicit saline councilor in the deepness of my eyes, sings prominently your song its treasured susurrations bent to my heart's pond, somewhere in the right ventricle a beauty orchestrated by lungs like a Scottish bagpipe sound made to oxygenate all senses
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salut

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My mind comports itself like a courtesan. If I’m looking for something, — (there is). Any answer is shown and advanced to me in detail by magic’s charm of the universe in my present time, so well monopolized somewhere in the past, where my actions have already transpired, and where I paid many tributes, in coins of love, converted at an exchange office of a galaxy, with, — my chic, — Salut… [in a hypnotic manner] ⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯ Mon esprit se conduit tel qu’une courtisane. Si je cherche quelque chose, — (y a-t-il…). Toute réponse, est montrée et offerte à moi, en détail, par le charme magique de l’univers, dans mon temps présent, si bien monopolisé quelque part dans le passé, où mes actions ont déjà transpiré, et où, j’ai payé de nombreux hommages, en monnaies d’amour, convertis dans l’une office d’échange d’une galaxie, avec mon chic,– Salut… [d’une façon hypnotique]
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come... — catch out my poetry's nipples with the island lips of yours ‧ suck out of it... the rain of my emotions announced in the forecast of love ‧ any dose will transfer in you the energy from the nest of my stars ‧ the molecular activity of my atmosphere is gonna erect your hemisphere ‧ our happiness from the present of now will immortalize any picture falling down  ‧ the vapors of our passion will sign with pseudo name, — [end of the world]
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emotion

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my emotion got been written at the morning coffee with the ink of dream that dreams me… the influence of mine with yours spun up to the sky for blooming in a color's custody full of desires… our lust made us confess again, how wildly about we're to each other… then… everything around us smiled
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I feel as if you're infiltrated in my veins as if you're walking like a master  through my senses... Go ahead and walk. It's your own right. I belong to you, Love. I'm just saying what I have to… — Say
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