Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

the climate of my thoughts it's consumed into a kiss soft, long, wild, heavenly my mind invokes you with all arguments of lust thirsted as an empty pen your silhouette is contoured by my eyes, using their color attired in the outfit of love my breath is modulated with all whispers of your touches mysterious felt on my body you, sculptor of my thoughts, the climate you set in me

you are to me, — the winter fête's attire crocheted with the cashmere of the verses' karma of my gray-blue eyes of the muse i am to you to diffuse the satiny sky's scent entwined with holly and ivy in neon moon's sheen at the shadow of a kiss of whichever season… [if anybody asks you]

The dream with you never got closed. Somehow, very discreetly, you sneaked from mainline into another dream, brought heedlessly from a different life, full of pleasures and chaos, and suggestive tastes, found in the myth's attributes of Dionysus, whose advice is to savor the holy wine, smoothly and as much as brings joy and health, and enough seductiveness to enjoy the scent of love. Yet, what you dream, what you assume, thinking you'll get, alternatively of what happens in reality, beyond words, slip like sesame syrup, between hazard's edge and the metaphors' limit, tailored in free love code, to imagine if…

separated by a rectangle we're approached by music; in the evening hours,  synesthesia it's you, it's me and a glass of red wine a song floats through us balancing errorless our thoughts, majestically not in vain, we graduated the course of language, — …tenderly love in endless sweet colors, we're blooming joy; I am, — [lost-in-your-love] you are the… — [ K ]🎼

I dream with you while you dream of me  while I dreamt a dream  within whose else dream but yours   Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, thus much let me avow — You are not wrong, who deem that my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away in a night, or in a day, in a vision, or in none, is it, therefore, the less gone?   All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar of a surf-tormented shore, and I hold within my hand grains of the golden sand — How few! Yet how they creep through my fingers to the deep, while I weep — while I weep! O, God! Can I not grasp  them with a tighter clasp? O God! Can I not save one from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?

very early in the morning, the sky whispered to me, — a magical day, my sunrise... and I answered back, — wham bam, shanalala-la… with my flew mind to you thinking that in one day, — [a very, very, common day], we'll meet for the first time and we'll go to make love as rough as if we've known each other in another life... ✴ ❝  and I will plead no contest if loving you's a crime, so go on and find me guilty,  just one more fucking time  ❞ ✴