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
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]
on the constellation of my universe, a huge query point gives an answer very precisely to a question asked, — please take care of that, — if it isn't over my head, shouldn't be on yours … on the constellation of your universe, all my stars surround you in beauty, me to be seen in you created again, — so i rose up in the same row twice and got memorized for the third time … on the constellation of both universes personified in an unsteady steady way we're a bit of something finely angled
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
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...
coffee, — (sweeten with the honey of blues), hot, — (as in as much to feel its vibration), firmly, — (to wake up into a delicious dream), served, — (blueprint of your lips on my lips), when, — (what about you'll give me a sign), price, — (my only one smile)
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
an unstoppable artistically silhouette [it's mine, not yours] a frisson into body blues concealed [that's yours, not mine] dream-makers are drawing the mood [eagerness has charm] any thought into my dreamt dreams [prove it to be what I need now] loving you, loving me is not fantasy, [even if all about it looks so alike]
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;
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