so. good.

by
When I'm running 
through the dreams of yours, 
they're cuddling me... 
and dressing me up
in the paintings of your thoughts.

When I'm running 
through the dreams of yours,
I rest myself... I even allow myself
to take some drops of them
using the sound of your illustrations.

When I'm running 
through the dreams of yours,
are those other moments
which makes me turn to you again
to gimme paths to other corridors
so good for re-energizing myself

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oh yeah

by
with the prelude… into B-flat to final chord into G-sharp , his lips with mine got in duet ‧ with lust pulsation in high-C and kiss's riff on radio waves, we literally laid a full climax ‧ oh yeah, suit of a desire's thrill played on repeat, hued in bis-es of B-flat, G-sharp and high-C
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shh... breathe...

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β‚˜mβ‚˜β‚˜, (what a good taste has your love for me...), it sedates even the midnight moon p.d.q. shhh... breathe... say nothing; let me take the words I want directly from your hungry lips; your moans caress my hearing as if are the canticles' canticle; i'm in you deeper than it feels Cantique des Cantiques [ from the Old Testament ]
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Te Amo

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❝ Te Amo. Te amo de una manera inexplicable, de una forma inconfesable, de un modo contradictorio. Te amo con mis estados de Γ‘nimo que son muchos, y cambian de humor continuamente por lo que ya sabes, el tiempo, la vida, la muerte. Te amo con el mundo que no entiendo, con la gente que no comprende, con la ambivalencia de mi alma, con la incoherencia de mis actos, con la fatalidad del destino, con la conspiraciΓ³n del deseo, con la ambigΓΌedad de los hechos. Aun cuando te digo que no te amo, te amo. Hasta cuando te engaΓ±o, no te engaΓ±o. En el fondo, llevo a cabo un plan, para amarte mejor. Te amo sin reflexionar, inconscientemente, irresponsablemente, espontΓ‘neamente, involuntariamente, por instinto, por impulso, irracionalmente. En efecto, no tengo argumentos lΓ³gicos, ni siquiera improvisados para fundamentar este amor que siento por ti que surgiΓ³ misteriosamente de la nada que no ha resuelto mΓ‘gicamente nada y que milagrosamente, de a poco, con poco y nada ha mejorado lo peor de mΓ­. Te...
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human

by
Take a knife. Make sure that's well-sharpened. Cut my soul in two and wait quietly to see by yourself what it's filled with. In the beginning, you will observe the sea with the cloudy waves of melancholy . And you will see the sun. A scorching sun . Then, you're going to feel a comforting marine breeze . (it likes to walk tenderly through my soul) Cut a little bit more to see how many waves of laughter jump out, but be careful to not spill 'em. (they're therapy for my various disappointments) Not to forget. You will see some failures . Ignore them. Someday I'll fix them. Cut a bit deeper and you'll find dreams which I still have, and also desires and fantasies… (I've to mention I have a special affinity with 'em) After that, I'd like you to look carefully at the top. Right there is happiness . Do you recognize it? I'm Human. I'm a lot of things each day of the week. I have about everything in this soul of mine, but I'm not afraid of t...
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help yourself to me

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I am trained to remember even today about some clouds in silvery tempers, brought from nowhere to bring still, out of the blue, a frightening rainfall ▫ I tend to feel the drops' corpulence and their moisture under my soles still, counting my steps and fluid feints while it's lauding my team's equipment ▫ It's like I'm absorbed in the whispers that sends you to help yourself to me, if you have those goals enough to win when you step onto my handball court ▫ As an athlete, I'm trained to notify you, I was born to be a champion. So I am.
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DooWooDooWoo

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i roused up in the rain's melody orchestrated in DooWooDooWoo of thunders and flashes instantly, a Mirabelle tree blossomed while the sun has dripped out its golden ink on it a mild scent compassed in an arch of colors, surrounded, spectacularly, my chic boudoir‥ the spring laughs with bouquets of summer, [life's essences have better fantasy than mine]
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face Γ  face

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I can't be face to face with you, — and yet, I plunged with aplomb into the starry desires of the fantasy, letting myself be pigmented by the rays of the sun and mystical symptoms of the moon, using the pen of your soul, to take daily your philosophy's shape, chic sketched out, according to your art of loving, emitted sensually through a daring posture of your scent, tamed with sweetened kisses, through all my senses... I can't be face-to-face with you — and yet, inventive, I blindfolded your moon with my sunshine. I whispered to it, you'll find me. Subtle, you did it. You found me, crayoning my inside world. An echo in chaos.
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give me a reason

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his daily waking routines are to make me feel differently... i'm loved in such a manner that some can't even imagine ⋯ syntax and morphology of love is structured in the language of his feelings, amazingly written in the chromatic of his desires ⋯ desires translated into equations, defined by exponents at powers of destiny, mine and his, invoked, to give him, to give me a reason ⋯ a reason roused and formulated in an esthetic conversation, using the pulse of pumas, black pumas; (he loves me in many ways)…
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