November rain
You love me so much that even your dream
it dreams of me fictionalizing a minor acute
of your philosophy pampered paradoxically
with the structural capacity of your longings
while the art of November rain with desires
Good Sail Through My Allusive Stories
dear reader‧‧‧, before throwing yourself in the void of my thoughts and navigate in all my dreamt and undreamed dreams, take with you the bow and arrows, — my mind is a jungle 𓇼 by the way, — try to wing onto yourself even a camera to immortalize anything 𓇼 adjusts the film on the spot, — lengthwise, width, up, down, and rotary, to explore (my nameless stars...), (my nameless loves...), elegantly masked in an allusive content 𓇼 remark, — in this galaxy of my universe, you'll be able to feel my mood inside you, as if you've been lured under the spell of a bad woman blues... ⋯ or you could have good╱bad luck in finding yourself when you look for me or, as you do, to get lost 𓇼 if somehow, it'll happen, follow the path of the good and beauty, and you'll be guided back to the light‧‧‧, my soul is self-satellite ᶜᵒᶜᵒoneᵈ in the blue spectrum's essences 🗢
