Do you remember (when and how) we've met in the middle of a speculative blue note song …‽ I was on G+ (exploring stuff). By magic, (you), appeared in that unknown universe with lots of galleries, as if you've been a quicksilver kind. Inside that space, some had barbarous profiles with plenty of pixels and wildish longings. Then, (you), came into my sight like an androgynous , with a look spoiled in dreams' circuit , adrenaline and drama, with a pulse a click away from mine. We dreamt of poetry, melodious lyrics , and voices with their souls hid through a keyboard or mouse. Your hologram , maybe, was seeking, like me, for an indubitable feeling and a definition , using a few subtle skills, to somehow adjust our world. A bit.
Now, I'm more than ever desolated since I feel richer by own you, and on my forehead sit the sun and moon, Now, it is, to me, worst and best too. And there's no one who might help us, the people barely keep up with their own, and on a white wall with the silent muses, Black Bishops seek to do a moonlight flit. [and I love you with pity and with horror thinking that all you got deserves to me as a Bishop Of White, which captures the Black Queen for eternity.] x2 In stations happen madcap accidents sad freights come in midsummer, and me, I am full of reckless gestures to get you closer and to terrify you. All around, just aberrant perspectives, fragile kids lug their parents on the back, old men's gray bones sledding on slopes and Albatrosses fly to atrophied horizons. [and I love you with pity and with horror thinking that all you got deserves to me as a Bishop Of White, which captures the Black Queen for eternity.] x2 I miss you and I'm looking for your face in e...
❝ Take bread away from me, if you wish, take air away, but do not take from me your laughter. Do not take away the rose, the flower lance that you pluck, the water that suddenly bursts forth in joy, the sudden wave of silver born in you. My struggle is harsh, and I could come back with eyes tired at times, from having seen the unchanging earth. But when your laughter enters, seeking me, i rise to the sky for it opens for me all the doors of life. My love, in the darkest hour your laughter, it opens. But if suddenly you see my blood staining the stones of the street, — laugh, because your laughter will be for my hands like a fresh sword. Next to the sea, in the autumn, your laughter must raise its foamy cascade, while in the spring, — love. I want your laughter like the flower, I was waiting for, the blue flower, the rose of my echoing country. Laugh at the night, at the day, at the moon, laugh at the twisted streets of the island, laugh at this clumsy boy who loves you. Bu...
…he asked her, «how would you like to be touched‽» …and she, enraptured, answered to him like that, — ‧‧‧ i would like you to touch me as if you have to go somewhere far, far away, and you would like to remember about each part of my body, with my velvety skin, and with all my valleys, and curves that enriched my physique, and enticed you ‧ i would like you to touch me as if you'd be blind…, unable to recognize just with your gaze my shapes ‧ i would like you to touch me as if you were mute, and only your fingers can articulate all your words ‧ i would like you to touch me as if your hands have healing's power on my body, and feed me with your caresses, and therewith, you quench your hunger and thirstiness with the love in me ‧ i would like you to touch me as if you'd like to dance with me, an invented dance, and as if your hands are some kind of magic brushes with which you love to color my silhouette with shiny nuances, [your fire] ‧ i would like you to touch me as if you...
i'm immortalized in the picture of your mind, moderated by the chic refinement of blues ‧ together we have the jazz subtlety contrast, painted by the sunlight, thrilled by the moon ‧ hypnotized by our view, some got trapped in, expecting themselves to have what we've got…
kiss of sweet dreams, – a tableau painted with non-toxic crayons crayons are your lips biting mine arousing the bestial lust... inside inside i want to feel you, profound sonnet, recital, tender mega sound
❝ Every day you play with the light of the universe. Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and the water, You are more than this white head that I hold tightly as a bunch of flowers, every day, between my hands. You are like nobody, since I love you. Let me spread you out among yellow garlands. Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south? Oh, let me remember you as you were before you existed. Suddenly the wind howls and bangs at my shut window. The sky is a net crammed with shadowy fish. Here all the winds let go sooner or later, all of them. The rain takes off her clothes. The birds go by, fleeing. The wind. The wind. I alone can contend against the power of men. The storm whirls dark leaves and turns loose all the boats that were moored last night to the sky. You are here. Oh, you do not run away. You will answer me to the last cry. Curl around me as though you were frightened. Even so, a strange shad...
a slice of silence it attired the morning sky in summer's avenue my eyes breathe blooms' hue lured by your magnetic love and your tendered smile your silhouette grope in my rinsed soul by a dream scented by your kiss a kiss rocked by moon once... in summer's avenue to forget-me-not
i am not humble and kind, at all, — why do you think i ported my sky on your eyes' translucent membrane ‽ ‧ to force you to (dream), (dream), (dream)… ‧‧‧ beautiful memories have the skill to bandage up your soul's tegument , enough to see the microscopic light hidden ineptly at your mind's edge… ‧ (i'm one-of-a-kind beautiful and one-of-a-kind memory) ‧ (macroscopically) ‧‧‧ can you filter through a rusty sieve the best days out of a week…(‽) (i'm curious to see the look on your smile while you try doing it…), (doing the effort to groove me in your sureness) ‧‧‧ with the serenity of the sea , fix your eyes on my eyes captivated by your fantasies (hmm, — do you still cherish what you see…) ‧‧‧ your diabolic mind created a journey, — journey pushes someone else's thoughts to some possible destinations for healing the deceitful promises of tomorrow to force you to ( wake up), (wake up), (wake up) ‧ (in my beautiful world) ‧‧‧ the production line of me, as a drea...