Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

the sun flaunts its radiance on me, the wind is caressing me timidly, the sand is kissing my soles' skin while your sky echoes in my eyes with intangible kinds of memories, syllabling, (i've-come-to-love-you)

If you dunno to conquest anymore the someone's heart, ask ChatGPT; maybe like you, the other person asks the AI what to do to boost you. You want to eat but dunno what, enumerate what's in your fridge; the bot will do you an instant list or even more, till you are pleased. You don't know or you don't want, will lose in your brain the contrast; no problem... you've got the Bard, you're not a tricker you are stupid. You chose to renounce to yourself, at anything that makes you human; what does it matter anymore when you lost your own connection with you.

joy comes when I bite madly out of life, juicy like a peach, filled to the brim, to look like a balloon made lusty sandwich with the body's bread baked in mind's jungle, (mine... and his...) happiness is felt when the lips, (mine and his) whistle dementedly thru eyes' intersection, luring the traffic lights of love's gravitation, to create a beautiful day while respires the moans as we get consumed

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...

slowly, my thoughts' wings, flap before landing in your senses, — [that's why you feel some thrill] how I move, it's an impulse kind that cause you to think of me, — [awol, some think you're scatty] music you listen to isn't by hap, isn't irrational directed to you, — [its aim is to get you next to me] y'know that thrill that makes you look like a scatty one... well-well, you just got how much I love you

as I did it before, but not knowingly, in your love, I surrender over again; the stars' nectary are your words and diaphane touch, your perfume; infinite miracles recite your soul and fruity passion, your dreams' sap; veils of melodies are your chic smile ripened in my thrills, night and day; a wondered vibe is your good night, and bubbly wine, your mornin' gaze; your love, held me, holds me and will still hold me, between your lips; now hug me, kiss me, take me home; home is you, in my dreams, sure thing;