do you want to put your hands on my wrist to feel the pulse of your heart?

isn't the woman's job to act reasonably but just the man's job of proving to her that she has for whom, — so i like me better when you want to be bad, but you choose to be good

1ᵉʳ jour, au début d’une nouvelle année scolaire en France,  un enseignant fait la présence dans une salle de classe : — Mustafa Al Ekhzari ? — Présent ! — Kadar Sel Ohlmi ? — Présent ! — Mohammed Endahrha ? — Présent ! — Chanhira Amarttayaku ? — Présent ! — Al Ain Ben Oit ? réduire au silence… — Al Ain Ben Oit ! pas de réponse… — Encore une fois, Al Ain Ben Oit ! un enfant gêné répond timidement : — Madame, je pense que c’est à propos de moi, mais ça se prononce correctement, Alain Benoit

it seems the memories are behaving like a connoisseur equipped fully to offer everything you're asking for; this could be somehow intimidating for some people who watch you as if you are a lovely creature, talking and listening to the voice of the own inner whore‧‧‧... luckily, only seems, otherwise, what are memories for‧‧‧

provocative touches ask for other heavenly touches, whatever you ask for in intimacy, it's acceptable,  it's even desirable... nothing is objectionable as long as there isn't some public nature, but what it's narrated further, it's a different story,  for the mind is always unguarded, and eyes, lips, spicy words and gestures are much more daring... there is nothing more occult than love's chemistry… ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ Because 🎧 I need Love, baby, Love, not trouble... ain't funny How Love Works 🎧 More and More, Less and Less  ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ▬▬▬▬▬▬ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

   if i sing softly over and over light my fire i'll be your baby tonight don't stop she called me softly ain't that lovin' you, baby? she took my breath away a...strange kind of woman you make me feel so good for your dreams if you believe me

There's something in ourselves we don't know. Something which we'll deny even if it exists until it will be too late to do anything about it. We lend a habit, polished, as if it's a trophy, begging for the approval of others, and withal that, nobody has any clue where we are. How near or how far, which's the truth or the delusion… how's the look in our eyes when what we are seeking for it hides right where we'd never think to search for, if someone wouldn't appear, miraculously, to whisper its magic and encouraging call — “come rain or come shine… come with me, (come…), (shine on, you… crazy diamond).”

why should and how to love you still  when you're already folded around me like a gentle cloud of a rambler-rose flowing around my forehead and chest to feel you like a kind of déjà vu which if you have it, I must have it too, today to roam like twin flames in love's nest

…please, — i keep writing, writing for my soul and bliss while i'm wrapped in blues

Because you didn't want to see me anymore, it's not okay, because it doesn't offer a friendly conjecture. Reason for which I have to figure out why.⟮…‽⟯ Could this be a trigger for you to want to see me no more sad, frustrated, or complaining myself in an equal and contagious frequency about pains created by a headache or fake loyalty of people that are pretending to be something they are not.⟮…‽⟯ Or could this be an indicative that you don't want to see me anymore agonizing too easily because of others' sufferance.⟮…‽⟯ As you see, deep down on my mind are planted some questions which are patiently waiting to bloom for spreading the scent of a right answer. Furthermore, maybe it's because you think too much about me, even when you really don't want to feel me in your subconscious any longer, could be another cause…⟮…‽⟯ I can't stop wondering myself. However. No matter what you're looking for, or asking for, no matter what you want, the answer waits i...

in the perspective of perception, I don't know, — means, — I don't bother to find out ‧ while ‧ I'm not able to, — means, — I'm too lazy to look for a solution ‧ at the same time ‧ I don't understand, — means, — it's hard to think all by myself ‧ while ‧ I'm a negative kind, — means, — I don't care enough. ▫▫▫(but)▫▫▫ When "would want" becomes, — want! When the "should" becomes, — have to! When "first and then" becomes, — now! Then — and only then, — your wish will operate in full to come true… and that's more, much more than it seems

... But if you love and just need to have desires  let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving; To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy; To return home to eventide with gratitude; And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

  « to help you find the girl you aim,  she loves sugar...  she loves kisses, she loves hazard  as Alice, she takes a pill,  as a ghost, she haunts the field,  in the steam, her finger draws  something smiling, I do not know...  tick-tock, tick-tock, the end is near,  when winter comes, she disappears...  one means two, boy, don't miss the train,  you are warned, you, not to blame,  red, yellow, blue,  a dancing girl in front of you,  another thing you cannot see  read the book and follow me »  ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ « – so, what's your name? — •••• – what's your favorite color? — blue – so, if you're frenglishly off and you won't tell me  where are you going anyway  to some weird country, I'll still find you — you will never find me – that's what you think? — yes! – you can change your hair,  you can change your eyes,  you can change your nose,  i'll still find you — you ...

predictably, always remains few things behind, hid deep at base of your quintessence; something not so courteously, but decent to stir you to want torture yourself, — u devil u

i wonder what agitates me like that… [should be your thought, – probably] probably to caress you in whispers, inked charming by my soul's scripts scripts that accelerate your cadence at a superior state of the awakening awakening, gamed with varied visions as if you'd love me‥ as if i'd love you [...too] — [...too]

…take illusions seriously, Mon Cheri; somehow, you ideated me so, [but see], in what part of me, you forged your mind, it's one of your memory from a future with which I'm living at this moment and for which it is not necessary to be judged... or justifying myself...

few rendered hypotheses, in music, are beautifying you as you are, as if it's a subtle whisper of mine to you; so listen to it in friendly mannerism thru the windmills of your mind, ok? i swear that's chic… (ma parole…!)

If you have  Nothing , then you have  Everything ,  because you have the freedom to do  Anything ,  without the fear of losing  Something ...

An image is wandering thru a story, having as landscape a dreamy realm insurmountable. I'm getting caught in the drunkenness of the pictures, colors, and sounds, while various fishes are breaking the water mirror, making the water-lilies dance bathed in the sun. The multicolor birds chirp for the fishermen. I guess that even J.Y. Cousteau could've been losing the notion of time, and could've been murmuring, if he was here, finding out, amazed, like you, right now, that my home is on the delta.

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]

For 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 hiding to play peek-a-boo » For 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» For me to get to you faster, the moon straightaway appeared, adorning me with tiny, petty fairy wings to fly 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 (in a playful tone, saying) that Music is chic heaven’s daughter affianced with the devil. You can bet that Music is the only magician who knows all opus pocus formulas. This Lady, — the Music, says the same words and yet differently while it's pulsating powerfully with its witchery notes , using its acolytes . This Empress, — the Music, it’s the One that leads you where it wants to take you. This Goddess, — the Music, it’s the reason for which the oxytocin flows in waves, leaving marks in the brain and in each neural circuitry . 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. It gives wings to the libido and stimulates intense emotions. And… it brings a better mood, taking you out of stress… (a stress which might lead to depression , burnout , and other similar disorders). Therefore, let the Music flow, for it's the therapy...

...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