young and beautiful

by Claudia ✓
24/7 young and beautiful
equipped with love's ember,
my words' scent
artfully prepossessing and
chiseled in scintillating riffs,
it benefits daily thru trysts
on the writers' alley
at the artists' club,
located somewhere
by the sea… by the lake…
between sunrise and sunset

that's why a few jealous ones
don't rain with applauds
on my poems' parade,
that's why i know object to it,
turning their actions in profit,
that's why, i, as an alpha rider,
i ride their nerves at maxim,
that's why i'm surrounded just
by nerds who rule the world,
24/7 young and beautiful
equipped with love's ember


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  kitchen seems smaller for both of them to use it, — nerves pollute the air … this bad episode caused tough gazes between them, like a wordless song ⋯ the context wasn't rude, but wasn't pleasant... (neither fun); as it came... has gone
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Unblemished, I let my smile roving on the alley of the metaphors. Metaphors which, once, peopled one's shadow full of sensations. Sensations tamed and boosted with an implausible profile pic. Pic with the parts of its aspects lost in nothingness or joyfulness. Joyfulness with moving feelings, and thoughts wondering… why's‽ Why is late yet early, and why is far yet closely, on poets' boulevard. Boulevard accompanied by craves, gesticulating longingly, the passion. Passion of the nomad me and others, fermenting loves on metaphors' alley. Alley with paths to light and dreams, like a switch at the call of the love.  Love moaning,  — (let only music cry), (there is no medicine like the blues).
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Your dream gets in my dream whenever wants. There is no any other power able to control it. There is no prescribed mechanism to forbid it. The bewildering joy and the groggy happiness are dominating both dreams. Mine and yours... ⋯ The key to explore a dream in a dream, belongs  only to beautiful people. The rest can only hope. But hope is perverse. And botch the appearance. And sometimes, steps on everything, arrogantly, aiming for having even what wasn't meant for it. ⋯ It whispered my instinct, verified by all my souls which live in my soul and nourish my entire being. ⋯ All the souls of my soul possess their own source. Dream has its soul. Why do you think I dream‽ Writing, too... But so has the laughing. And so on... ...the Love. Why do you think I love, and I'm loved‽ Why your dream gets in my dream as it please···‽ ⋯ (giggling), (mysteriously blooming), (kissing... me)
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salut, — allez, bisous

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⟮good morning, my love⟯, — it's my lights' charming effect framed in a smiley kiss 𓇼 ⟮the midday greeting⟯, — it's rays influx from suns' eyes flaunting lunch meeting 𓇼 ⟮the evening's hello⟯, — it's bliss, it's contentment with treat, music, film 𓇼 ⟮nighttime yawns with joy⟯, — the moon and starry sky stalk cheerful soothing time 𓇼 each greet browses me while I think and look for fun, flirting with life's plans 𓇼 ⟮so⟯, — salut, allez, bisous, — it's facile to relate to ⟮while we socialize⟯
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in my head is the moaning of a night, — (a hypnotizing night), named after you, you, the one who loves to listen to a song, housed in the bedding of a hard drive ⋯ sweetly, breathing my worldly fullness, an inventive kiss, from that exact time, has migrated in this status quo, reviving so a dream, to erect your untamed nature ⋯ a secret flows from an annex of the heart, examining and tingling my lips, tactfully, while your smile, [moisturizing my breasts], moans like night, [love is sweet] with you
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you can't run

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I've been anointed with the sky's lotions when I was born ⋯ love was waiting for me, pure and frenetic, passionate and bright ⋯ with a texture, delicate and graceful, I've got a prophetic name ⋯ my duties were, to keep my family happy, brimming with pride ⋯ lessons transmitted by my loved ones to me, implemented top augur ⋯ the faith expressed is to live together peacefully, side by side ⋯ equally, yet different, you can't run from love, but towards it ⋯ now, my mood whistles, bizarrely, a song's riffs across the room ⋯ always in love, migrating on your thought's eyelid, I'm your rhyme
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