flashback

by
pleasant emotions
flood spontaneously
like a dandelion in the spring
hungered of lips on soft lips,
so good... — so-so, again
as much real as the unreal
composing a mood, painted,
sung, dreamt, and spoken
in contagious gods' language
and the spirit of goddesses
to flourish inside you
an afternoon experiment;
‧‧‧
then another, and another, and
I, clearly, have chosen to be
a flashback, — you addicted

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we've met

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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.
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take bread away from me

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❝  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...
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every day you play

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❝ 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...
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as if

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…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...
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mille fois

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i am the sky of the skies above all the skies, bearing the sun of the sun of all the suns, and the moon of the moon of all the moons i am the world of the worlds of all the worlds, bearing the star of the stars of all the stars, and the dream of the dream of all the dreams i am the wish of the wish of all the wishes, bearing the night of the night of all the nights, and the day of the days of all the days i am the love of the love of all the loves, bearing the color of the colors of all the colors, and the joy of the joys of all the joys i am the very best of the best of all the best, for i am the i of myself of all the i of the selves of i, crΓ¨me de la crΓ¨me of all the crΓ¨me de la crΓ¨me (je suis mille fois un trait distinctif  traduite), while a thousand times is not enough for what i am for any sky, any world, any wish, any love, inculcated
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one that I want

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On a banal day, everyone you'll meet will tell you, relax, it'll pass away. But nobody will say how and when. Me, like everybody, I'm gonna tell you, — I've been there. I was confronted with a situation similar to yours... [almost...]. Didn't you feel first an indescribable pain that ran through your veins and blood, and all your being, working like a symbiotic, trying to transform you into something else, enough to be able to face fighting with your fury, with your weakness, with every fear that you've been thought that's well hidden? [surely, you felt it... surely, you've been transfigured...] If somebody will tell you that understands you, believe not. It's far to be similar to something lived by others. You have to resist not to lose your mind. Hold on till will appear that bright day to wake you up. Once awakened, you will observe you have the same look outside, but inside you'll be different. You'll be much stronger. You'll have a n...
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Bishop Of White

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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...
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within the deepest darkness fearful

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...my longing for you kneads the patience, tames the expectations, inspires the dreams to bear fruit of a gaze with the taste of love ‧ ...my longing for you disavows the sadness, lives in appeasement, intercepts the feelings, tenderly gesticulated by the lips of your sun ‧ ...my longing for you explores within the deepest darkness, fearful, to locate your mood in so many playlists, hid by your urge for me
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together

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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…
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