I feel as if you're infiltrated in my veins as if you're walking like a master through my senses... Go ahead and walk. It's your own right. I belong to you, Love. I'm just saying what I have to… — Say
The mouths were created to can pronounce, through the touching of lips, the words. And yet, the most powerful word it's the non-word combined with lips of another mouth, asking... softly let me kiss your lips
I am playing in your thoughts without letting visible some scars my love for you giggle giddy up in your blood, explicit preferences the left eyelid of yours recites on my right eyelid, its throb's poem your lips whisper to my lips in what dialect my body to feel you
in an antagonistic dream [refined] between time and space [quoted] a coffee's steam has slid furtively to one of my anesthetized shades 1stly, it combed my untamed spirit 2ndly, it woke my naughty smile 3rdly, it adjusted my breath to [his] [all the others came naturally…]
from the immensity of sins committed in the witching hour, i will call you to lead you into the abyss of my immortality; there, i'll revive you from verses as my muse which you are from the thoughts of any poem penned, only you'll know my cruel curse that empathizes with all your inside burning, enough to bloom in you the lure of my seductive perfume from any sheer feeling, if any moment will get you bored, i will feel you flowing in me, and i'll take care to inject you with my nasty blood, till reborn in you, my emotions' spark
…right as heaven sends you, at your turns, you love to send the rain of kisses on my lips, on my cheeks, on my eyelids ‧ (well, i got to tell you), — the rain, madly fixed by big and warm drops, wrapped me tightly in its scintillating movements ‧ deviating my thoughts' colors, it captured my soul with its beads and my mouth with muffled sighs, to feel I am… your sweet lady
Dear dizzy fall day from this time of the year, even if it seems to be the season of the witch, I dunno what kind of strategy are you trying. To be accurate, I didn't imagine our dating be so grayish and cold and without your golden and brassy and cuddled and warm sunshades. Fortunately, I was inspired to put on me some perfume with sprightly notes, enough for avoiding any wrong situation, also to reinvent another story, with each part of your sun, inclined on me, to look shinier. Guess that could be one of your deep excuses, in your hurry to see me, and is accepted. Yet, do whatever's necessary to fix up your mood. Even implore a competent one for a prescription… — P.S. — (Do it AΛ’Sα΅α΅βΏAΛ’Pα΅Λ’Λ’β±α΅Λ‘α΅). Winter knocks.
I can not stop time and yet, unintended, I remember You for you're not what you hide in aphotic side unseen, but what you've become through your own free will, throwing light to my invisible shape, sensible and mystic in your style invoked, in your air inhaled, in your water, sunk, in your visions, zoomed, you not to be dropped in bad magic spells or to be hijacked by my deep-blue mind, deeper than the ocean darker than the night...
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