We didn't have a start, but also, nor an ending. Since we found each other, life beyond time has elapsed in harmony and balance. It was a need for me to understand rightly, why I was looking and asking around for you, when, properly, you were always in me. It was necessary (for you to be sure) that the fire inside me loves to escape wildly. (It can't be kept in a hopeless realm). (It can't perish in loneliness and frustration). My soul is a no-good place for the lonely for it is capable to reach any kind of fantasy, making me so real, while some wish gets fulfilled. My soul is walking with your soul. Both shine. Both have that spark which can never be replaceable.

If a smile could sometimes mean...  — ⟮I adore you!⟯ ⟮You're funny!⟯ ⟮C'mon, you piss me off!⟯ ⟮Ooh, how much I like what you're telling me…⟯ ⟮I missed you!⟯ ⟮Of course, I want!!!⟯ ⟮Are you crazy?⟯ ⟮Mmm, I love that part of your mind…⟯ ⟮You know, that dream… I want to be real.⟯ ⟮Yes!⟯ ⟮Clearly, Not!⟯ ⟮You lie, I know when you lie…⟯ ⟮Hmm, you're sincere, I think I like you…⟯ ⟮I'll never forget you!⟯ ⟮I don't think so…⟯ ⟮Don't forget me!⟯ ⟮Come!⟯ ⟮Wait for me!⟯ ⟮Kiss me, please! Get wild!⟯ ⟮bye-bye!⟯ — Could you guess what means my smile now?

«With a chaste heart and pure eyes  I celebrate you, my beauty,  restraining my blood  so that the line  surges and follows  your contour,  and you bed yourself in my verse,  as in woodland, or wave-spume:  earth's perfume,  sea's music.  Nakedly beautiful,  whether it is your feet, arching  at a primal touch  of sound or breeze,  or your ears,  tiny spiral shells  from the splendor of America's oceans.  Your breasts also,  of equal fullness, overflowing  with the living light  and, yes,  winged  your eyelids of silken corn  that disclose  or enclose  the deep twin landscapes of your eyes.  The line of your back  separating you  falls away into paler regions  then surges  to the smooth hemispheres  of an apple,  and goes splitting  your loveliness  ...

— who's your greatest love, the first one, the last one, or... the one between first and last؟? — the greatest love of mine is the one that remained and will remain in the soul... kept hidden as a treasure because it did it and it does it and it will do so well to me, [like a song from a picture]

As me to get to you faster, I begged the moon,  «give me your mystery and drag me with you anywhere you can enter, on the horizon of dreams where the sun loves to hide to play peek-a-boo» As me to get to you faster, I said once again, — «come on, dear moon, give me your secrecy and take me up to the one I love, to the one who waits in a dreamy realm, supernatural and mysterious» As me to get to you faster, the moon straightaway appeared, adorning me with tiny-petty fairy wings to get to the clouds, then further and further where you wait for me in the fluffy sounds, — cocooned

«When a new day begins, dare to smile gratefully. When there is darkness, dare to be the first to shine a light. When there is injustice, dare to be the first to condemn it. When something seems difficult, dare to do it anyway. When life seems to beat you down, dare to fight back. When there seems to be no hope, dare to find some. When you’re feeling tired, dare to keep going. When times are tough, dare to be tougher. When love hurts you, dare to love again. When someone is hurting, dare to help them heal. When another is lost, dare to help them find the way. When a friend falls, dare to be the first to extend a hand. When you cross paths with another, dare to make them smile. When you feel great, dare to help someone else feel great too. When the day ended, dare to feel as if you’ve done your best. Dare to be the best you can – At all times, Dare to be!» «happiness is not the absence of problems; it's the ability to deal with them»               ...

  « Man is the most insane species. He worships an invisible God and destroys a visible Nature. Unaware that this Nature he’s destroying is this God he’s worshiping.»

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

it's almost midnight… delight me with your moon, with your mouth, with your hand, then rolls me within you… hide me in the hue of your shadows to feel the tip of your tongue wandering through me as after, to fall into the void, till the ground, then up to the "Do♭♭", making me for making you start to hum, «'cause I'm a man, my woman, my friend»

You can bet that Music is heaven’s daughter, affianced with the devil… or, the only magician who knows very well plenty of opus pocus formulas. This lady, — the Music, says the same words, and yet, differently, pulsating powerfully with her witchery notes, using Her acolytes. It’s the One that leads where it wants to take you. It’s the reason for which the oxytocin flows in waves, letting marks in the brain and in each neural circuitry, — this Goddess. Furthermore, it’s the Divine product, not just a simple pleasure. It’s part of the background noise of each existence, offering a full life. Also, it amuses and energizes. Gives wings to the libido and stimulates intense emotions. And… it brings a better mood that’s taking us out of stress… (stress which might lead to depression, burnout, and other similar disorders). Therefore, let the Music flow, for it is therapy in itself. Not to mention that it makes us sexy… (otherwise, how to explain the sex appeal of the rock stars 🎸, anointed a...

...defines pleasure — ...to define pleasure is to exist, — to act as if I were aiming to inspire enough to be lured into a dream at the level of living an organic joy with nobody else but someone (…) while others explain the essence of that inner experience, expressed just for you, you for me, both for us ...hmm, I burn with desire to tell you, to tell you… how much I missed you

sometimes, — pilot sometimes, — vet... today's agreement, — he consults her cat

sit... look at me do nothing just dive yourself inside of my lullaby ▫ time with devotion sneaks up through you nightly daily ▫ [abandoned] you inside of you be sound of a rainbow ▫ kiss my whisper with your disarming smile ▫ I'm not dreaming, — [still want you]

In the presence of the present, I'm afraid you're afraid I'm afraid that I love you‥ (and that's true). I love you using the lips of those that convert each melody in a chouette, (hard-rock-lover). So I hope you will intend to order strawberries, whipped cream and chocolate for some chills & fever. The store is on the dreams' alley, next to tempting whispers' corner at the parterre of longing, (open).

I jog on a cloudy and undecided zone where loneliness and the need to be with others mix, like the day with the night. I can not be me-me, as I would like to be, openly, sociable, but neither to stay hidden, isolated, as I have sometimes the impulse to do it. And the inability to choose one of those paths, it's like a diabolic crush.

one, freaked out, suddenly, and turned its back on you but what to see, like one, was others acting the same evilly gesture committed was more than constipated  intolerable to get defined with noble gaze, you smiled the picky life with class reminded you to tell it, [pass] ‧‧‧ subtle... [between the lines]

Now, I'm more than ever desolated since I feel richer by own you, and on my forehead sit the sun and moon, Now, it is, to me, worst and best too. And there's no one who might help us, the people barely keep up with their own, and on a white wall with the silent muses, Black Bishops seek to do a moonlight flit. [and I love you with pity and with horror thinking that all you got deserves to me as a Bishop Of White, which captures the Black Queen for eternity.] x2 In stations happen madcap accidents sad freights come in midsummer, and me, I am full of reckless gestures to get you closer and to terrify you. All around, just aberrant perspectives, fragile kids lug their parents on the back, old men's gray bones sledding on slopes and Albatrosses fly to atrophied horizons. [and I love you with pity and with horror thinking that all you got deserves to me as a Bishop Of White, which captures the Black Queen for eternity.] x2 I miss you and I'm looking for your face in e...

I just wanna know (what we're gonna do) if we'll sail to some analogic freedom, with the lively spirit and the ability to multiply, and to simplify any equation, inducing so, the next deep blue movement out of any tendency and any radical exponent of any starting position, justified in any tie game.

as‧‧‧ if you could read my thoughts, you should already know I'm lost, — lost between, — and in-between‧‧‧ and as I know you, you'll show up muttering to me, — you're not lost‧‧‧ you're with me traveling wherever‧‧‧ your fantasy with mine together is, — steady... in a sinful harmony as‧‧‧ if

Put into a magic box: a sheaf of silence , a thread of happiness , two drops of hope , about two hands full of dreams , and the rest, as well as it fits, put freedom ... ‧ Put the lid on. Put a small key in there too. On one side… (to the left is necessary). Then rotate it three times, so will resonate an electric velvet song in  your soul's jungle . ‧ Close your eyes until the song will end, because good fairies will dance around you, and you don't have to, (to see them). Shush... Shut your eyes and listen to... trust in me.

same room, same couch, same table, same cup, same teaspoon, same tea, mixed with honey, [a dainty variety] the ritual seems a similar peculiarity, with the languor in a safety escapism for nobody to bother your gladdening […] isn't it charming to know there is one in this world who listens to same track which has the cadence of your pulse calibrated to your feel, concomitantly …¿? but why I'd wish I knew you're in it too …¿?

  ❝ touch the flower made of skin love the sinner and the sin let me feel you deep inside live forever, never die touch the flower of the demise love the liar and the lie let me feel you deep inside live forever, never die ❞ O N A N I [Practice makes Perfect] by Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio

for you, I'm not identical with who I am for everyone but just the one to which I've transferred all my ego; this version of myself is much more tender, deeper, better and loving,  fragile and much vulnerable; please take care of it, — satisfy this version of me if it's your desire too, and not exclusively mine…

when another mind, it penetrates your mind, it's wonderful, but when are mixed up, and treated as art, mental orgasms last a lifetime

if you wish me to leave my gaze on the floor, you should dare to step on it if you wish me to feel subjugated by you, you should dare to amaze me if you wish me to share the light with you, you should dare to blaze me if everything that's gone, you wish me to catch it up behind, you should dare to ask yourself what am i to you… but if you wish to know what's on my mind and soul, you should sink and swim in all sprung rivers out of me

 — Hi, honey! Sit down! My name's Janis Joplin Have you ever heard of me? — Yeah, I've heard of you — Oh, what's your name? — Eric Clapton

love is when you give someone else  the power to destroy you, while you have the trust that will not do it ;₎₎

  — approximately, how many times a woman has to be conquered...‽ 𓇼 — (a woman is like a château...), has many locked rooms... has a wing on a side in which she keeps locked the memories... also, has a tower where she's keeping some hopes, hopes which are afraid to fly out of soul 𓇼 a woman is not conquered just once, — she must be conquered every day...

I'm as sweet as a sin in your eyes, when you hold the fasting of me demurely in your soul and mind loving me till God and looking humbled for the light to find a smell of the saint of myrrh. I'm as sweet as a sin in your eyes, then, when you're waiting for dispensation, that dispensation for love without knowing if it'll come this sweetness of godly thought with the smell of books and innocence. I'm as sweet as a sin, and you… you gotta be a chocolate Jesus looking in the sinner inside you knowing that it is not a miraculous icon or healing source that could heals you of me... me............................as sweet as a sin…

How many "so-called friends", do you have‽ Did you even try to buy them? Did you care? Did you hear their palaver? When d'you knew that by gazing in their eyes, they'll go away? ⋯·⋯ Will they go away in the claws of their own sigh, inhaling and exhaling their own hate's whisper, wrapped in a silent shout, on the route to hell, at the disappointing call hour of a hungry moon? ⋯·⋯hmm… At the disappointing call hour of a hungry moon, I saw night's finger migrating on the sun eyelid, too determined to find out the loners' unhappiness. All were attired in the garment of lovelessness.

Dear YOU⋯yOu⋯YoU⋯ — On a certain day, at a certain hour searching for something from your sacred place, you're going to find this page. I will not be begging your pardon but polite, I will inform you that once you get here you'll be taken into a future out of the past, then back to the future. You'll be letting the fairies that exist hidden in a corner of your mind to complete my stories, enough to beautify your soul, wrapped already, in my love. ⟮sincerely…⟯

I've placed some memories in one of your pockets to be found by chance or why not, even to search for them, when you'll want to see, again, some shards of love, with which once I caressed you mapping to you a magic party... invoked seductively with some itsy-bitsy-teeny-weeny positive formula, so nostalgic in beauty sealed and savagely gathered at a moment, when you, like me too, were all I needed [psst... you're all I need still...]

sur toi te… te bisous_èse, te Fa dièse, te Sol bémol, jusqu'à Mi, jusqu'à Si, comme j'te Ré, même si à te... te tra-la-la, jusqu'à La, jusqu'à Do, et trille-le-le jusqu'à t'plonger en Fa majeur et vaporeux à j'te Sol jusqu'à frisson en tout bémol, partout dièse, à flots de lunes, tu tru-lu-lu tant gentil, à l'aide de mille chansons d'amour en force sa clé, actif surtout, moi, sans arrêt pour répéter, — (sur toi te… te bisous_èse… …)

❝ • if you can stay close to me and we can still be different • if the sun illuminates both of us without our shadows overlapping • if we can be “ourselves, us” in the middle of the world and together with the world crying, laughing, living • if every day we'll find out who we are and not the memory of how we were • if we give each other without knowing who will be first and who will be the last • if your body will sing with mine because together it's joy… — so it will be love… ...and will not be in vain to wait for each other so much.❞

My Own is beautiful as floated perfume is the other day she seemed an opening flower My own is beautiful as Angel's flesh in springtime the other evening all the sun was on my heart Save from my owns lips, there is no caress the spirit's parks are decked below her lips In clamor, she is the Temple and in the crowd the verge the welcoming of my own, the happy season. The other morning in her sadness was winter's night the voice of my own, the fairy of sounds For all my life she is an opening flower My Own is beautiful as resurrection is

I think I met you to learn more stuff about myself, — to discover new feelings, new heartbeats of my own, even to change my style, bringing new emotions to me, since the experience with you is a trip to time with each thought of mine in your thought, while our gazes are getting infiltrated in a touch and a kiss, identically like the charm of notes, so virgin so rational irrational

the music exposes some vibes; the sinner seems a pliable saint; a spontaneous saint, designing an epical, unfading experience, provoking me to invoke you… tacitly to lure you to my zenith, to consume my burning hollow

tell me something beautiful, she said, and he responded… — (∂ + m) ψ ✴ «In science, you want to say something nobody knew before in words that everyone can understand. In poetry, you're bound to say something everybody knows already in words that nobody can understand» ✴ (∂ + m) ψ   « If two systems interact with each other for a certain period of time and  then get separated, this can no longer be described as two separate systems. Somehow they become a single system. In other words, what happens to one of them continues to have impacts on the other. They're influenced by each other instantly, no matter how far apart they are... distant miles or light-years.»

my mood's sentiment is dynamiting in words using music's charm each impression is freshly dynamited with my bohème grace the best example is each song, —  all are a magnum opus