1-800-Love

be aroused by traces of my smile... —
a peony's taste at the route of your lips,
a canvas of incidents expressed
with the force of gravity at the power
of ambition and hope in finesses
of a fantasy metamorphosed
with the art of a kiss for the fault
of an overwhelming attraction incited
by distance and accessed discreetly
with that luring call at 1-800-love
of the morning heat subjugated
in a blue opaline confusion of a dream

Explore Popular Posts From This Blog

as sweet as a sin...

walk right in

are you sure you want ⟮…‽⟯

dream's scenario

check it out

a little bit

salut, — allez, bisous

every kind of people

across the borders