Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

nothing bad can happen at this hour; quietness doesn't let us make mistakes; we sail in perfect equilibrium, anonymously without knowing if we suffer, if we're happy; your eyes closed feel my breath in yours; you've been caught in my sweetest dreams;

Too much, — there... — too little, you... A day you are to me, — yes, another day you are to me, — no All seems for no reason to be... —  to need to... — Too simple, — for another, too complicated, — for one... Kisses expose the spaces gathered daily between us Too much, — today, too little, tomorrow [far from me] Almost and much too soon you suffer for longing me... A touch too much seems nothing or too-too... from time to time...

« Votre âme est un paysage choisi que vont charmants masques et bergamasques jouant du luth et dansant et quasi tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques. Tout en chantant sur le mode mineur, l’amour vainqueur et la vie opportune, ils n’ont pas l’air de croire à leur bonheur et leur chanson se mêle au clair de lune, au calme, clair de lune, triste et beau, qui fait rêver les oiseaux dans les arbres et sangloter d’extase les jets d’eau, les grands jets d’eau sveltes parmi les marbres. »  

Isn't a saturnine morning but is perceived so, identical like some complaints of yours... — which not once, you made me listen to them, even if you fooled yourself, very convinced I'm gonna let the things come easy for you. Music's wave is to deliver you another reply in paralleled dialect, like most of your actions, certain taboos of your love, here but not here, there but not there, in an axiom philosophy of the one who loves you the most... today.

And I've been choosing you to be one of my dreams, but you metamorphosed in each of them, becoming a watercolor painting me to be to you your rain, then, in other to look like Asteraceae flowers and my soles to be tattooed with the graphic symbols of your name for you chose to be the ink and quill of my thoughts decorating my soul with the smiles of love. — Yours. Troubadour, the wind, meticulously, sculpted to me the timbre of my voice, as wherever you'll be or go to feel inside yourself my idiotic longing and love cocooned in the sun and moon, in the air you breathe composed with the typical music deepen in portraits of everyday stories, the-invisible-one-starry-eyed

do not pray for any entity to use his power, you to be protected by your enemies, or to make them stay away from you, for if you do this, you'll observe how easy he will make disappear even some of your everyday friends, (never), but just cheap imitations of the way that you move; so better invite 'em at your chic kabaret, to wish 'em a merry Christmas, right from early in summer, applying your best smile

When I'm running  through the dreams of yours,  they're cuddling me...  and dressing me up in the paintings of your thoughts. When I'm running  through the dreams of yours, I rest myself... I even allow myself to take some drops of them using the sound of your illustrations. When I'm running  through the dreams of yours, are those other moments which makes me turn to you again to gimme paths to other corridors so good for re-energizing myself

Seems that the balance of the universe is upset... The force of light is irritated while the power of darkness grows up a bit into an unexpected ascension. The weather is caught into  an unbearable manic depression, but not for long. Already, the guardian of the universe appeared, applying a magic formula to break the spell. It's called kindness. It's called having care for one another. It's called humanity. May This Be Love, Child...

For some of those who secretly doesn't like you, assure them others trained you to transform rapidly the ugly moment you got by hitting beauty of life only Also, keeping silent and smiling isn't a secret or such a fuss to send happy summer to the abject haters when you say those magic words to make 'em disappear forever

when you don't want to talk to anyone, I am the silence hidden in a magic sound you're not looking for it, but somehow you listen to it with angel eyes, confident cos I will always find a way to get to you

how much you like to offer yourself such a pleasure just to flow around through my feelings, and to walk with melancholy through me, and to dip your hopes into memories with the taste of the forbidden fruits just for making me feel the love of yours as if you are the exquisite heroin that steams amorously my veins, and how carefully you are, only to arouse inside me all your unimaginable desires and lusts, which seems to be too strong to be kept at a limit... how charming you are when you long for me to beg you to swim up with elegance through my mind, just to create daily new moments in the color of tenderness only for me

while your lips are comforting me, your hands are whispering to me music to my ears

— my lovely trap, what's the first number which comes to your mind? — you look well and hellishly explosively, exploring me in my deep blue wave the dog gives you the paw; you pat his head and you wipe his jaw; he's the only one who knew (about) my blue wave

  A glass of love, please... To not be cloned. The bite must be unique. Must be full of aroma, having character... (and..), doubtless, the scent of the sea... The kiss must have the taste of wild fruits enriched in floral's notes. ⋆⋆⋆ A glass of love, please... (filled with velvety words) ...and not be cloned. Must be mysterious... Must be similar with those whispers which, at some tender momentum, we've sipped some drinks, deeply seductively in undeniable pink reprise...

Which's the one that talked much more about us, — the sound of the day or the sound of the night? What's night's name which made us look gorgeous? But of the day which made us look even better? Do you still hear whispers of the sun and the moon? Do you remember which one pushed us inside the dreams and which one took us out? What about the gossip between the sky and the sea and not to forget those tween butterflies and flowers? Music still has the power to create insanely vertigo for me, despite how l feel… but for you what else or it does still, tell me...

About 12 degrees ago, I was much more sociable and sympathetically. Now, I'm not and I'll not be anymore. I chose silence. An unstoppable feeling. I'll do not accept the unacceptable. My emotions are non-transmissible even if I know that fascinates you with all your demons to seek for mine. I have taught, about you. You as well have taught, about me. — I'm a gift. You learned to glorify, my holy self.

— Hey, what are you doing here? — I'm waiting for you. — How did you know I'm gonna come now? — I didn't know. I sat down and said to myself, I'll count up to ten if it doesn't come, I'm leaving, but what to see, suddenly you're here... — And up to what number did you get? — At 7162018100. And I could've continued even if it seems you're barely on my mind.

— I love you! — Do you tell this… to everyone? — Yep... to everyone... — To all of them? — ₘhᵐᵐ‧‧‧ To all, I tell 'em that I love You weightless timeless out of facts of life it was you from the beginning of beginnings so please be good... — you are the only one

In the hatred of a minute he wished to forget everything about her A speeding satellite confirmed his emotion Not even 1st fantasy hasn't remained as if they'd weren't Delete-Delete key was used Spirits ramble verbosely through queered hours A reason to wait aspiring to a better future

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…

any cell of mine has in composition the love's formula which never cheated you, it's a soundtrack painted for your dreams, a state of mind injected deeply in me by you, you, my demon in the angel's skin

it's not too late... it's not too early... but right on time as among the stars, my soul, like a kite worn by wind, to get caught in your soul's spell, which doesn't tell it like it is, but acts nasty as a devil, devil that you forgot to mention, — being evil has a price

here I am, all wet… rains of your lust fall in despite, pathing the motions of your psyche anesthetized and seduced by rays of my moon, so fascinated and mesmerized by the chimes of stars and yet so poisoning in your syrupy blood, that's able to invoke me to listen to your callings, as if I am a vampire metamorphosed under your spell

the secret scream of pine's forest cavalry is guarded by wildflowers which adorn the jungle of my mind full of dreams, — dreams that embellish my wildest river your fantasy inserted a murmured flavor, using own pine needle to incite the poesy to write itself smoothly, in diluted mirage your love for me, in an empyrean tableau

Knock, Knock Who's There? Follow. Follow Who? Follow Me Down

long-lost but not forgotten, — exaggerating term; stubbornly, you chose to dock in the inner tumult of my adventures as if i were you eagerly, my dreams ran you up and will run you still for my essence never knew and still doesn't know to extinguish my longing for you, beast

I adore the caresses of the delicate chilly mornings on my sleepy skin... I adore whispers of love in the dawn to lure me to a new adventure of life. It thrills me so delicately when I feel the summer breeze, — on my neck... And coffee. It makes me melt myself in his secret whisper bent in its steam, belle and seductive as I'm lovely felt, when the frail deed of love redemption leads you to a new level of happiness.

Today, I woke up with happiness in me. Didn't let me look at it, but it whispered, — I'm in there and in those, a nearness and a profound range around you. Feel me like a star detached out of you and taken back, for our joy to be at the bottom of the soul. Reality is sung by the breeze from where I am. The birds are the messenger painting the sky with the color, i-love-you-always-forever

the moon vibe brought me your quiet longing transformed your whispers in its shine leaned a ray similarly with the color of your eyes changed the fever of my thoughts when I hold you in my dreams, you to breath to feel you… to be inside me continuously

in my mind, you're a deep breath burst of harmony, your pulse makes me vibrate, your fancy things get check-in innocently in me, conjugating the present tense of take-my-hand right now until forever... it's our time of love

♀ «I fell asleep... I... I fell asleep...  I fell asleep, but in my dream, I was awake and  you were there flying through the air. You told me a lie about blue light... ... tutoring in your eyes and you dove into the ocean and never came up. Because I was awake, I wept after...  Your face appeared in a cloud... I put a photo of the cloud online and  I smiled and I knew it was a dream. When I shook myself out, my body was soaked a thousand times over sweat  and tears and strangers and forever... •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• ♂ Sure, everything's fine»

« unable to perceive the shape of you, i find you all around me your presence fills my eyes with your love, humbling my heart for you are everywhere » • the art of pretending to swim •

like a perfect miracle you are, I don't see you but I feel you, literally designed as I wanted, a spontaneous favorite dream, extravagant with compliments, for the dreamer I am, devoted

Combustion is the love of those which's calling each other. A flame is the curiosity of those who's looking for each other. Passion is the testimony of those who are waiting for each other... Like Fire, me, and Howler, you. But for those who enjoy seeing the suffering of others, profaning the beauty of a spiritual shelter is perplexity. It's as it is. Dilemma.

it's just you, — as if you're the only option... your soul is caught in the settings of my dreams... my gallery's full of you, — natively sweetly brute... it's just you, — my deep lust… my (bonjour…) all is memorized in messages with petite phrases... all conspire thru fragile whims and skills... (at any call...) (j'imagine l'amour avec toi)

what's essential now is the fact that you're the only one

the one who knows how to keep love forever, it's possessing a treasure, a synergy of the holy grail in the soul entered, in the heart melted, in the senses raised, in kisses aromatized, 24-7 enlightened and evermore and again conjugated

looking for me or showing yourself to me, it's not forbidden but just interpreted to be a sign of weakness, for your favorite discipline, — indifference, — displeased it accuses you, — even the blue attitude of the ocean confirms, — I could swear you already heard it pianissimo syllabicating I'm not but one only of your sweetest perfection

Climate, an apotheosized day in each molecule of mine. A chic and sophisticated one attired with patience's breath. A structured and noblesse day, chiseled and scented, like You. A day textured tenderly in art, diffusing a metaphorizing love. In the companion of a melody, today, I am, – celebrating You. My thoughts, playfully, mark adventurously part-des-Anges Anointed with the eau de vie, I'm savoring memories…

With eyes open within myself, I have counted, all my unfulfilled dreams. With eyes closed outward, new dreams have been born, comforting the area of a future. Offering me an insatiable mood, I hum... ₘmᵐ‧‧‧ Life, Music, Please. Look at Me Now. Roll with Me.

honestly, I think I lionized you on a pedestal too high; loving it, you did it too to yourself, without any shield of security, otherwise, how am I supposed to explain the cause of yours getting in free-fall and putting me in the position of wondering if it is wrong to stretch my hand to help you, or if it's seriously bad to want to.

the manner I love it inspires birds to be coded distills light of flowers to grow up my dreams entire you to be wrapped and folded with them and any emotion to be assumed and balanced all your love's choreography to pulsate for me

in the canyon of sentiments, music conquers you through genus of its species as if she is the one which is listening to you…

magnetic, — nonmagnetic properly, — improperly constantly, — inconstantly at least I love you, — I do... I devour you silently, honey

Life looks like a carousel No, it didn't get me dizzy. Was just barely warming. Your majesty, another tour. And please, don't stop. As a privileged one, my inner feelings are a tribute paid in coins with the taste of colors, music, love. It's an entire patrimony always rewarded  with a ravishing smile of the woman I am and of that little girl hidden inside me...

timid, it glided smoothly the district of my gaze on your pent-up beauty 𓇼 chambré, dreams' lips, have braked in a flash above your poem's lips 𓇼 warmed, the tender view on the tread of this thrill began to gurgle an opus 𓇼 all that will be, is written as music dances with life, as i am dancing with you

She always cut their sandwiches into triangles Monday, exuding a damaged angel sigh… Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, were the shifts of the others…

Velvety fairy fingers, — mine's °○◯ Tight waist, nectarines bust, — my seductive appearance °○◯ Fine gold threads, — my ankles °○◯ Charmingly crystalline, — my laugh °○◯ Slithering smoothly lust, — my lips °○◯ Love in my eyes' colors, — the one I belong to °○◯ I'm not a saint... I'm better, — I am his… forever °○◯ elixir

— What do we need first  for our sins to be forgiven? — Firstly, we need to sin. — And after that? — Just spread up the love. I got all You need. I got You.

On the tiptoes, slyly, without looking back but just scrolling down, we’re going forward through one diaphanous steam. The breath, the eyelids, are wrapped up like at the beginning of the world without having burdens, without nothing, but just moving ahead, guided by the purity of light in pictures of any day. The paintings are shaped with sounds. The brush seems more that’s comforting us rather than giving us colors… by playing so tenderly with us, with a thin fog, with steam, with a black and white, where time doesn’t exist in the morning galaxy, but just a 6 am & do it again, instrumented with the fire in the heart in an equitable tint of the transparency. On the tiptoes, slyly, to not shaking life, we look to find ourselves for not wasting a classy love under a deep feeling that unfolds without being rather than be, in waiting for falling stars, for making happen, for taking a fragment, which even if is there, it’s perfect for being held, and to look almost like a happy time th...

You are the time. That time out of a past-tense. That time from a contemporary action…. That time out of the future. An unknown time. You are that kind of time hidden between the seconds made from hours and words for showing love at and after sharp…. You are the time…. But you're a dream…. Basically, in such a way, I met you…. At one midnight, shaking suavely, making me be irresistible in front of your bow and arrow, sent over-time, into a time, and out of time, in this place of the very here, where the clocks were forgotten to be spun, but having still, an independent functionality… all the way….

Are you sleeping? Have you walked through my dreams taking care for enveloping them with love? Did you find me hid in your soul contoured in a steam of the feelings, induced for me and the idea of love? Have you been helped by a song... ...or a mantra, to see me when you sleep? I know that I could be in your sleepy eyes anything you want, but most, I would like to be the best beautiful declaration of love. Keep me just so... (always......💕)

hey, — you… — the sovereign of my poetry, ⋯ open your voicemail, for heaven’s sake; you have several missed messages, — (some are mine…); did you forget you promised me you’ll teach me the art of love…‽ ⋯⋯⋯ (at a given moment, in a staccato manner, — the inbox got a moral asset); ⋯⋯⋯ Have you ever longed for a certain person who hadn’t had to be, but you thought how it could have been the two of you, together and not what wasn’t and never will be‽ ⋯ Have you ever thought it is out of date, to try, to wish and to know what could’ve been like‽ ⋯ Have you had the privilege of being shunned by someone who’s now amalgamated by a song without knowing if its echo will turn up to bite your ears’ ears, which fail of being apt to hear…‽ ⋯⋯⋯ I miss you. I miss you like a forgotten verse, uttered sublimely on what should have been, as if you’re a poet who hankers to get in me to write (without deducing) I might want you. ⋯ I miss you from some hypothetical time zone of a nameless future, (just as ...

Aujourd'hui j'suis entré souriant  seul dans le labyrinthe et avec calme, j'ai suivi mon cœur sur la route qui mène à ton jardin. Et les murmures volent dans l'air, et le jour ça fasse nuit… Un monde sans frontières se préparent pour le carnaval… (De tous ceux qui sont présents, uniquement les fous aiment, juste eux, seulement eux trouvent une porte dans le temps. Et de ceux qui ont traversé, seuls les fous eux savaient sur la sortie cachée du labyrinthe.)[r] Aujourd'hui j'suis entré encore dans ton jardin et je t'ai trouvé dans les griffes du désir vif entouré de lys et de statues, avec tes yeux concentrés. Tout le monde te regarde docile mais ça s'en va quand tu parles à eux et quand tu rappelles à eux que... (De tous ceux qui sont présents, uniquement les fous aiment, juste eux, seulement eux trouvent une porte dans le temps. Et de ceux qui ont traversé, seuls les fous eux savaient sur la sortie cachée du labyrinthe.)[r] 𓇼 translation‧‧‧ ©ᵏᴼᵏᴼ ↭ un p...

Hé... Je sais que tu me vois. Je ressens que tu me caresses avec tes yeux. Tu m'effaces et me redessines... Et plus, je sais déjà... Je sais que tu m'entends. L'écho de ton coeur me parle quand tu ne veux pas répondre... Bienvenue! C'est la dernière fois que nous-mêmes rencontrons. Bienvenue, ami imaginaire! Bienvenue! C'est pour le dernier... fois. Bienvenue! Prochainement, je me réveillerai... suis-je exagère?! d◑◡◐b Nous vivons dans un rêve puisque les yeux du monde se sont fermés; C'est juste un rêve, ami imaginaire; Nous vivons dans un rêve puisque les yeux du monde se sont fermés; C'est juste un rêve! Comment est-ce que tu sais que tu n'es pas réel? Ami imaginaire,  bienvenue! C'est pour le dernier... fois; Bienvenue! Prochainement, je me réveillerai... ‣‣‣‣ translation‧‧‧ ©ᵏᴼᵏᴼ ↭ un p'tit je ne sais quoi ‧ chic… à ma façon