ghost

by
the breeze of words… have spread a bittersweet… scent,
gingering like a ghost at the edge of a dreaming moment

i found myself flying in your poem's sky... (was amazing);
captured in sun's fist of the story, i got trapped, loving you

unspoken feelings have emanated in me, the joy's graphic,
convincing me to KᡉᡉᡖOⁿKᡉᡉᡖⁱⁿᡍOⁿ in its tender murmur, —
(carpe diem)

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boom-boom

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Shangri-La

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as sweet as a sin...

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I'm as sweet as a sin in your eyes, when you hold the fasting of me demurely in your soul and mind loving me till God and looking humbled for the light to find a smell of the saint of myrrh. I'm as sweet as a sin in your eyes, then, when you're waiting for dispensation, that dispensation for love without knowing if it'll come this sweetness of godly thought with the smell of books and innocence. I'm as sweet as a sin, and you… you gotta be a chocolate Jesus looking in the sinner inside you knowing that it is not a miraculous icon or healing source that could heals you of me... me............................as sweet as a sin…
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je t'accuse

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je t’accuse ⋯⋯⋯⋯ je t’accuse for stealing my judgment ▫ je t’accuse for the infinite hours of dreaming ▫ je t’accuse for how you kiss me ▫ je t’accuse for the way you touch me ▫ je t’accuse for how you make me laugh ▫ je t’accuse for not letting me forget I’m a woman ▫ je t’accuse for the way you feed my spirit ▫ je t’accuse for the thousands of whispers of love ▫ je t’accuse for how your blood simmers in my blood ▫ je t’accuse for you’ve not changed anything at me ▫ je t’accuse for you love me as I am ▫ je t’accuse for the way you’re listening to me ▫ je t’accuse for you never get bored with me ▫ je t’accuse for the way you make me long for you ▫ je t’accuse for how your eyes watch me stealthily ▫ je t’accuse for the way you wait for me ▫ je t’accuse for all my orgasms ▫ je t’accuse for how you’re savoring my scent ▫ je t’accuse with my lips, with my eyes, with my smiles ▫ je t’accuse with my fears, with my sins ▫ je t’accuse with all of my being ▫ je t’accuse ⋯⋯⋯⋯ je t’accuse for how...
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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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nobody like me…

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… bullet skein unfurls camouflaged vows at a random time of the day, mechanically ; mechanically, you smile, thinking of me, — thinking of me with you and without you; the time, enthusiastically, it whistles at you for you made a top choice , but you knew… you knew from the start… (since we met), there's nobody like me … [no–bod–y] 🫦
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One fine day, we're gonna meet on the 13th line, page 31, chapter — the love's philosophy. Me, (as author), with us in a dispute, I pictured about who's missed each other more. To interact with the topic, get the melodic book and let its emotion run along in your mind. I bet you'll be impressed by all the hugs and kisses that could heal your longing's pain. I could even risk… saying you'll be captured in birds' trill, sniffing, budding flowers' scent. A magic cosmos will be shown to you enough to laugh, to cry, to spy toward the new me I am. Its buoyant spirit will feed you, will ravish you, will reveal why you wish to dance with me. Nanosized, you'll live me in a lot of biographies. Out of one of 'em, I was sent into it to love you.
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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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clair de lune

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« Votre Γ’me est un paysage choisi que vont charmants masques et bergamasques jouant du luth et dansant et quasi tristes sous leurs dΓ©guisements fantasques. Tout en chantant sur le mode mineur, l’amour vainqueur et la vie opportune, ils n’ont pas l’air de croire Γ  leur bonheur et leur chanson se mΓͺle au clair de lune, au calme, clair de lune, triste et beau, qui fait rΓͺver les oiseaux dans les arbres et sangloter d’extase les jets d’eau, les grands jets d’eau sveltes parmi les marbres. »  
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