Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

Would I want you to kiss every little piece of me? — I would. Would I want you to drink from me the booze of gods? — I would. Would I want you to take me in your hands and in your mouth and to have a greedy feast from me? — I would. Would I want your limbs to be around me and my mouth to be starved and thirsted for your kisses? — I would. Would I wanna feel the hunger of your wildish passion devouring me completely in your tenderness's rhythm? — I would. I'd wanna know how you crave for the taste of my love and what would you do to keep this desire avidly forever I want you to dry my every tear with your lips, to feel your breath on my neck, exorcising my sadness Dunno how but you got to do it still, [you turn me on]

bizarre sensations arise from a different world in this revelation of a black and white matinée where is used the mystical language of an entity; a demon lover, good bad in the bed of the nights, as well as it is, in the bed of morning or of noon, or whenever is called, appearing without accusing but only to offer the pleasure you're asking for... ✧ bizarre sensation in a mystical language is music of today's revelation like a black & white matinée

The calm blue sky has vanished, you've left behind the spring… wasn't important any sigh, — you've made your choice so clear. Then, summer with its nights appeared and disappeared, — I waited for you till morning dew, not even then, you've not revealed. And autumn came, much earlier hearing my cries calling for you, but all the scattered feelings shaped an identic attitude. Now winter's here but seems I am the one that's changed, — the gallant echo of the spring, like you & I… it disappeared… an army full of devils, it does it feels electric, it's power as I'm chasing fire  to shake it up where it began, at the vertigo introduction⇡up

The universe began to blossom, fed chaotic by a bunch of moods and conceptions full of passion. 𓇼 Full of passion is the poetry, airing its essence in the cadence of the midnight salute of stars. 𓇼 In mind's culpability of someone, the name of who we're thinking, it's replaced with the pronoun, s/he. 𓇼 Inspired, their actions get wildly. And black is beautiful to cook it up, in thoughts bloomed out of joy.

what color has happiness and how many languages does it talk,  what's its appearance and how could be recognized or if it has any preference when decides to appear… how long would it stay, more or a limited period… it's the pulse of a thought about what I feel at this very present time; a thought guided by hopes and significant sensations found in all sentiments inside of my desires, reasons and aims… Happiness, Welcome!