dedication

by Claudia ✓
before being a journalist
she's been a typographer

typesetter or the linotype
wasn't for her a secret

the ink, the font, the paper,
the offset or bookbinding

proofreader... publication,
traditional current routine

librarian, even a colporteur
she was already in-between

she, —
my one and only goddess
my mom, - my unique lady

to whom I'm deeply inclined
with dedication acclaiming


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are you sure you want to… …to get to know me as i'm identified in a hidden life, messed up in multiplicated hopes with sweet dreams that fill my eyes with you… where you'd love to be… …‽ are you sure you want to… …to go far and deep, directly to experience my rules, sown with the magnitude of every boost, illogically absorbed by your instincts in the subconscious of my scent… …‽ are you sure you want to… …to sip a coffee, conceived and seduced by the witchery of my dialect embroidered with subtle inscriptions, and devoured by the pupils of the sun while you're perched on my pedestal… …‽ are you sure you want to… …you want to be addicted by the thunderstorm of my fantasies, spaced in the fruit bowl with the passionate loves' bacteria…‽ …cos i'm not, not as sure as you think ⟬…⟭ are you sure you want to… …to get to know, — why the shoe size is — happiness, why soothing zone depends on you, why the grammar of time is — oxygen, why the future is — today …‽  
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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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made for you

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thrilling all-around

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with you on my lips got famished my pencil with you in my mind i'm diluvium of dreams my rebel soul's cadence is nestled in your blood your wild heart's echo is ringing in my head your photography  whispers love's savor but I stay quiet to listen to your caress thrilling all-around, from east-west to north-south
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