Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

my eyes sketch noise scream, — come, love the mouth bites dreams salivates, — sip my kiss the body writes poems the mind, — gymnastic i long... i'm in... i need... instant, you decode me translating my physic narrating me exquisite while others read still you resolved my puzzle lonely means intimacy with lost mind inherently or as everybody knows‧‧‧ it's a Fʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ.ʸᵒU.Cᵃⁿ'ᵗ.Kᵉᵉᵖ.

instead of saying to him, I love You, like a chef, I make his favorite dish, I kiss him in the morning and night, I laugh at his jokes, I take care of me washing my body in peony's water and I wait for him in a sexy négligée having candidate a tender wine for ambiance... with its dirty little secret, tacitly...exact how deep the ocean is

I know that intentionally, you made me forget my grammar by coming with the recipe for only one medication, — Love! And the problem with the warning scheme was simple... — both, the cure and adverse reactions offered wings to travel thru the air of fantasy, enough to find some beautiful visions and to make me reborn in your whispers when you carry me on your mind, as if I'd be a little girl in the poetry's drugstore not the kind of cool town woman who takes out your breath and does nice work if you can get it, my jazzy in your blood.

the look of love got you in my beauty, found and displayed in the jungle of your fugitive dreams, all tangled up and duly possessed by incantations with details created in an auto-da-fé, like a backbone shaker who adores to invade my DNA, to spin through me till compose my happiness, mastered in all what's written but not described, having an identity but not exposed... while holy glance looks so awesome in the window of a sensible address

i love you… i didn't want to fall in love with you… if it's wrong, accept my apology, — forgive me…

the most elegant goddess with her distinctively voice tempt you sophisticatedly in the jazz empire revealed through a mannerly context of the L‧O‧V‧E story rhythm brilliantly exposed for you ❝ I have thought about these songs for a long time. Being in the company of some of my greatest friends in music allowed me to tell these stories just as I'd intended. Sometimes you just have to Turn Up The Quiet to be heard a little better. ❞

it's nothing but a blue moon sipped pianissimo with cognac in the abstract of a clepsydra it's nothing but a blue moon not a mentalist or a magician or appearances of some wizard it's nothing but a blue moon with many thoughts, touching each cell sublime until orgasm it's nothing but a blue moon but who's the moon and who's the blue, no one debated it has already been engraved and fulfilled agonistically to fly you to fly me‧‧‧ to the moon

you're the one who longs to peel me a grape, who sculptures with lips my body's temple you're the sanctuary of my devotion's stories wrapped in the veil of the songs I listen to you're the one who sniffs my flower's murmur so uninhibited in your sh*t out of love dialect you're the only one with whom I get a lovely day [et, bien sûr que si...] [je te kiffe de trop...]

 I can't tell you why... but... through your eyes, I dream, in your dream, I'm pulled with fun spells and songs thrown by different senses through your mouth, I eat love rebuild and fixed in your time and space garnished with your visions through your thoughts, I am wildflower perfume guided in your bedding where once I have been and I will be still

The domineering esthetic title, — You. Like a page of love, — I. Hidden behind a chic chapeau, — You. Signing some pedantic love letters, — I. Tempted by temptation, — You. With orgasm on the lips, — astonishment is frenglishly clear…