unintended

by
defines love, —

to define love
is to limit it,

so better not…

love is time,
time is relative,

relativeness is
unintended

poetic audience

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solitaire

by
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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adrenaline

by
every morning, before sniffing out the day's whispers, I'm taking first, my adrenaline's dose, [as usually] ‧ the sun, the chirping of the tiny sparrows, the breeze of the sea, try impressing my windowpane ‧ each of them takes care of any part of me, improving magically, my coiffure, my eyes, my mood ‧ the hugs, the kisses, the innocent giggles, are advanced by love's light that loves bathing in me...
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vortex

by
you, in any of my thoughts, kill the silence with the jaw of the fantasy; the light of your vocalizes fills the darkness making saints and devils tremble; hidden behind a mask, everyone omits how fragile you are, [hero/antihero at once]; like an insane wildish force of sea's vortex is your character acting in the love's name; and is, and is not revenge, and is, and is not  justice, but just your elixir, quelling a gaffe;
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the island

by
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

by
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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deep blue

by
lend me your freshness, — i asked for it to spring's season, and it doubled my scent ‧ lend me your joyfulness, — i asked for it to summer's season, and it doubled my adventure ‧ lend me your opulence, — i asked for it to autumn's season, and it doubled my energy ‧ lend me your calmness, — i asked for it to winter's season, and it doubled my dreams ‧ lend me your puissance, — i asked for it to all seasons, and they doubled their gifts to me… …freeing my deep blue skill, adequate to make you feel real, — and yet, never enough, you lure me on and on and on
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III

by
you slip in any cell of mine like an irresistible quicksilver making art with my blood keeping me captive with the graces of a silvery fox and the instinct of a wolf for you talk with distant stars and with the moon and seas  to guard me like a treasure for I emit the perfume of love in III types of notes, felt deep, me... — you... — us...
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yum

by
in the spatial pub of a dream, your time reserved the table, — music; the crystalline gestures of us are orchestrating the main menu; we taste a smile, but dessert winks at us, pushing the moment into a yum ambiance; we're admired by a hug and a kiss which do pirouettes on poetry's floor (...in the spatial pub of a dream)
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somewhere

by
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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