foreign love؟

by Claudia ✓
magnetic phenom
are our silhouettes
painted in dreams
and divine poetries
sublime… aporetic
to make you and
make me wonder,
are you for real or
just a foreign love


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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 🗢
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in the sanctity of meticulously dreams, meant to fracture the loneliness, nicely triggered by some beloved memories, you're labeled as the addict i play with • on the pavement of whispers, absently, your team of longing takes a little walk and whistles in my pulsation's rhythms, just as once, when we staged our ritual • i'm a she or her world as a love's tenant lured in a sly game, bizarrely transparent in a situationship without situationship inspired by an effect without final effect • scratches' traces mapped by my scars, percolated your charm to other's charm as i exposed you as a fabricated oddity using algorithms that cheat algorithms • my innate style is an aberrant architect, nonchalantly negotiating any limitation, just to pacify your mind, for isn't a gaffe if you feel explicit thrill due to my mood
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hard-rock-lover

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my blood is like a flood of honey where he, with longing, takes a swim, lustfully, until wolf down my elixir 𓇼 those waggish twins monsters, seductive poetized by his tongue's tip, reveal my oh-so-pleasing refrains 𓇼 my body, chiming the atmosphere, elucidates his heartbeats' contour, — driving him crazy makes me happy 𓇼 compressed in the walls' intimacy, my being in his sighs oxygenated feels, burgeons miraculously in time's spell
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i'll come running

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where I wait

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I know your name… It has risen every morning in my thoughts… but I do not say it aloud, too terrified that the poetry you are with the fragile cat's paw will fall apart somewhere, not where I wait I know your name… I whisper it daily enough to not destabilize the chemistry of us… but also, me to not be somehow incriminated, for my mind bears you deeper than the eye can see Right Back Atcha by Dave Keller
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les mots bleus

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J’essaie d’imaginer quel genre de saveur I try to imagine what kind of flavor pourrait avoir tes pensées maintenant could have your thoughts now et combien de joie cela t’apporte-t-il? and how much joy does it bring to you? Sont-ils trainants de te toucher doucement, Are they touching you gently... [vaguement؟?] [je me demande moi-même...] [vaguely؟?] [I wonder myself...] Sont-ils comme un joaillier expérimenté? Could be like an experienced jeweler? Gère-t-il à te dessiner un sourire Does it manage to draw you a smile tandis qu’à l’intérieur de toi ça fait d'éclatés while inside you it makes burst avec l’éclat de mon amour, planifiée dans with the brilliance of my love planed in les mots bleus, — ton bleu, — my wave
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kiss me...

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Would you wanna love me even today? (today I really need it...) And if you could do it even tomorrow (to love me...), (to kiss me...) (to kiss me exactly as you want me...)؟?
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shh... breathe...

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ₘmₘₘ, (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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strange color blue

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your eyes, lips, face, body, hands, feet, hair, seem cabalistic as if it's a sacred will, you to be sculpted in my mind every day, over again … confident, I sowed on you a smile dreamily and equally temptingly, like a strange color blue, chiseled to rend you ample, all of my graph
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