handle with care

by Claudia ✓
The fingertips, silky, are wandering on the keyboard
whispering your name in the silhouettes of numerals.

The chances handle with care the parade of desires
while shape of letters on my lips is getting appetizing.

The messages are murmuring with a version of fear
in the seconds waited and spent at the other end…

I'm calling. I'm whispering… Dream, do You hear me?


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a little bit

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stop; don’t try to divine anymore some answers generated into a day... (of whatever's tomorrow) if the thoughts slipped out of the brain box but got treated as if they weren't well-packed 𓇼 murmured, out of the blue, the wind's whisper, trying to temper me, melodic… (just a little bit) with the drastic formula of a sensitive topic about the one who has a chiaroscuro intellect 𓇼 intermediary, music flows, inviting rain to laugh (without modesty), in my boundlessness, which owns numerical superiority in any adventure of the truth, while it dances with else's delusions...
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it's been said

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I saw you at the periphery of an absentmindedly hour. Perceiving that, I've decided for good to not want you anymore in my mind at the borderline of another hour. I could give you thousands of minutes of reasons why but I preferred to let words get trundle ridiculous among the air of love where it's been said daily a tale. After all, in the realm of imagination, everyone can be replaced exactly as is replaced an image from a gallery, an address from a city, or a song with another one….
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check my phone

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thrilling all-around

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