24/7 young and beautiful equipped with love's ember, my words' scent artfully prepossessing and chiseled in scintillating riffs, it benefits daily thru trysts on the writers' alley at the artists' club, located somewhere by the sea… by the lake… between sunrise and sunset that's why a few jealous ones don't rain with applauds on my poems' parade, that's why i know object to it, turning their actions in profit, that's why, i, as an alpha rider, i ride their nerves at maxim, that's why i'm surrounded just by nerds who rule the world, 24/7 young and beautiful equipped with love's ember

you said something, I said something; questions toward responses are a rustle; moments are not hidden, but searched; certainly was something it shouldn't be; consequences are in the cupid's realm; a timid game to know me to know you; (for this sapience), given the situation in this spectacular parade of paradox... can you put in the picture the cliché on who's the wolf, who's the black sheep‽

time doesn't matter in the gaze of love when kisses levitate from your lips on my lips as if are a mermaid, — the one roused by you to lead my feelings with gracefulness at the intersection of your mesmerism, where logic is torn and transformed in a wildish passion piloted by your fingers that are swinging on my sizzling hips while your tongue... (ooooh...), your tongue pierces me up and down to fix some parts of my speech... placed, (placed), (in lots of apostrophes)