this love starved heart of mine

by
to not wrench your morning fragrance,
i lean softly upon your inflamed wrath
letting this love-starved heart of mine
to migrate inside you enthusiastically,
pleasant to arouse you, and to listen to
my minute, springing up within forever
through the field of wildflowers bathed
into nights of loving, of passions, of us

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I embodied you in another creature reincarnated not from a fairy spirit but gifted to direct you at a stage of a futuristic idea felt in a sloe gin able like a vermin to eat your pain, a pain found in any soul, at a time...
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Under the influence of the moon's breeze, music witchery is touching me and metamorphose me in the whispers of stars, properly orchestrated by your wildish thoughts, making me look like a tableaux vivant out of your preferred color palette in the abstract, as if we're meant to be metaphysical as one. Under the influence of the moon's breeze, your incantations appears organized, whenever, wherever, and in any way ever, inciting me to add additional loves' names to your love for me. Under the influence of the moon's breeze and of its charisma, I invoked dream's power to lure you inside my unpredictability to mention your name, – ( give‧me‧your‧fire‧give‧me‧your‧rain ).
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… outmoded are those that wanted you and me not to get together; outraged , the time wanted to be in trend too and paralyzed the seconds, both of us to roam like two crazy between each other's thoughts; but the moon intervened and with gold threads it glazed our souls; the sea, dancing in circles through you and me, it dressed us with her breeze in a mating ritual of senses , to dispel away everything we felt as a homework of culpability; even if we've got puzzled …, nothing and nobody could stop us ..., tenacious , we still dare, we still dream ..., you're wanting me... I'm wanting you..., filled with a  whole lotta love ...
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