the course of true love

by Claudia ✓
the sun swatted the dawn
with my smile

my smile was belted
with the fluffy clouds' skin

the fluffy clouds' skin
are guarding my dreams

dreams have essences, but
essences aren't for everyone

poetic, through themselves,
are in the course of true love


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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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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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