Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

A guy tells a story: — “…after a romantic evening, I led her home, but before crossing the threshold, she turned to me and kissed me, then, she whispered to me, provocatively”, — “What about staying here overnight?”...  Hmm... I look at her and I answered, — “nooope…” (between us), — what the hell am I supposed to do all night long, (alone), in front of a door?

Would you love a person who laughs at anything and could be noisy for is hiding tears of pains in her solitary soul? [Someone did it]. Would you encourage and determine this person to feel precious? [Someone did it]. Would you love a nitpicker person who underestimates itself and calls you at unexpected hours, weeping? 1…5678! Shout! [Someone did it]. Would you be able to love a person with inferiority complexes? [Someone did it]. Would you teach this person to not compare itself with others? [Someone did it]. Would you show that person how cool, unique, and different is it? [Someone did it]. Would you love that person with a lot and plenty of painful secrets? [Someone did it]. Would you listen to that person, hours, snuggling it with all your love? [Someone did it]. Would you love this person because dreams of that love depicted in books, one that provokes butterflies in your stomach? [Someone did it]. Would you love that person because isn't afraid to be different? [Someone did i...

oh, my love... — are plenty of stuff you can't talk about them to anyone, choosing to tell 'em to night's realm

At this hour like that, the gentleness of the wind flows over me. The whole universe loves me. And… (again), my shiny fancy outfit is my pajamas… — (carefully...), — I've combined a feeling with a word, which contains much more philosophy than usual, using the magic power of some incantation and the essence of (why-what-who…) it is, — a kind of… quiet and good-natured,  (؟‽)  — a kind of… alluring and perfidious, (؟‽) — a kind of… honest and open,  (؟‽)  — a kind of… pompous and mischievous,  (؟‽)  — a kind of… mute and stubborn,  (؟‽)  — (while all together maintain the scent of my bohème beauty, wrapped kindly...) ,  (in one's mystery...)  (؟‽). Those things created some connection, allowing me to make a trip on a route that seems not to be similar but rather meticulously updated, facilitating a story already lived and felt next to someone, which even if it isn't versed enough, influences all facets of emotional factors that make subst...

Shhh... Keep quiet... Are my whispers heard? Not?! In this case, time didn't come yet to get me out of your dream... Shhh... Keep sleeping I must sail under false colors for other wolves not ripping the metaphors of what we are when we howl at each other. Keep quiet... Keep sleeping... Keep shushing. Keep wolfy pace. Dream of me suggestively. I'll keep howlin' for you, coded.

« Tie your heart at night to mine, love, and both will defeat the darkness like twin drums beating in the forest against the heavy wall of wet leaves. Night crossing: black coal of dream that cuts the thread of earthly orbs with the punctuality of a headlong train that pulls cold stone and shadow endlessly. Love, because of it, tie me to a purer movement, to the grip on life that beats in your breast, with the wings of a submerged swan, So that our dream might reply to the sky's questioning stars with one key, one door closed to shadow. »

at a time's hour, in a day, when you kissed me, you placed on my lips your mellifluous fantasy, forever, when I think of you, some of their witticisms to color me with passion of your wildest dreams…

❝ I am fair, O mortals! Like a dream carved in stone,  And my breast where each one, in turn, has bruised himself Is made to inspire the poet in a love As eternal and silent as matter. On a throne in the sky, a mysterious sphinx, I join a heart of snow to the whiteness of swans; I hate movement for it displaces lines, And never do I weep and never do I laugh. Poets, before my grandiose poses, Which I seem to assume from the proudest statues, Will consume their lives in the austere study; For I have, to enchant those submissive lovers, Pure mirrors that make all things more beautiful: My eyes, my large, wide eyes of eternal brightness! ❞

you made me fucking in love with you in such a way that I don't even know anymore what to do with my own self as if the entire universe loves to see my spirit free and explosively wild for you, — (the cosmic creature taking the fire's shape, tamed so bluish by a magic trick of mine)

start each day and live it in such a way that when you get out of bed, early in the morning, to make the devil say: aw shit, s/he's up

love me today exactly as if I'd be a suave melody, be poetic, be like a painter full of gentleness in his enormous attention for any detail... — love me today exactly as if you are hypnotized by some drops of rain in a tropical summer night to cool you to cool me by this fever full of longing love me today exactly as if you search for a reason that brings me back to you, not in the morning, not even at midnight, but at the hour when you read... my savor

sensibility isn't feminine, is human and when it meets a man, it becomes poetry… (by my side)

— do you know where you are? — …in a dream — which one? — an invented one — which one? — the one of an intimate exploration, hidden in the shape of an external search,      reshaped to keep the dream alive —  which one? — the dream you dream i feel you feel me

we look like two molecules of hydrogen; we have similar valences breathing same incantations between two kisses fastened in a knot with all basic water's characteristics, — odorless, colorless, insipid, and invisible, enough for our love to not be seen in all we have and all that holds us to be, like a liquid mass in our senses reflecting desires to all places, i, only to be with you, you, only to be with me

lightly... in the absent stronghold of her exquisite mind; and, oddly, his wildest dreams, disappeared; disappeared also all his interests, due to a radio song; a vicious one, reflecting love's phases and fears;

Je fais souvent ce rêv' étrang' et pénétrant D'une femm' inconnue, et que j'aime, et qui m'aime Et qui n'est, chaque fois, ni tout à fait la mêm' Ni tout à fait un' autr', et m'aim' et me comprend. Car elle me comprend, et mon cœur transparent Pour elle seul' hélas ! cesse d'êtr' un problème Pour elle seul', et les moiteurs de mon front blêm', Elle seule les sait rafraîchir, en pleurant. Est-elle brune, blonde ou rouss' ? Je l'ignor. Son nom ? Je me souviens qu'il est doux et sonore Comme ceux des aimés que la Vie exila. Son regard est pareil au regard des statues, Et, pour sa voix lointain' et calme et grav', ell' a L'inflexion des voix chères qui se sont tues.

❝ extinguish my eyes, i'll go on seeing you; seal my ears, i'll go on hearing you; and without feet, i can make my way to you, without a mouth, i can swear your name; break off my arms, i'll take hold of you, with my heart as with a hand; stop my heart, and my brain will start to beat; and if you consume my brain with fire, i'll feel you burn in every drop of my blood ❞