Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

a mad love [alone], — passes quickly, but just the two of us madly in love, — [never...] [seems we baked the love... for good]

today, the sky's skin mirrors poetry's anatomy of some souls, vested in the lights' vestments those souls could be mine and yours, blandly running to the sea to debug a joy hid in time data of those souls support us to feel that fire freeing the caressing range of love's overture [i might fall in love with you… but would you?]

I'll go on a forced vacation from love in a place, somewhere, at the end of an era. If you'll try to recreate me in the shape of your fiction modeling me in deaf sentences and old letters used by gods and goddesses, I'm gonna feel it. After all, I paid a price in the coins of dreams for my innocent love, you sacrificed.

Under the influence of the moon's breeze, You, — ʸₒᵤ•you•ʸᵒᵘ, you metamorphosed me to be the whispers of stars properly orchestrated by your wildish thoughts, making me look like a tableau vivant out of your preferred shade of the abstract, as if we're meant to be metaphysical as one. Under the influence of the moon's breeze, your incantations appears organized, whenever, wherever, and in any way, provoking me to create additional names to love, — our love. Under the influence of the moon's breeze and of its charisma, I invoked its power to lure you inside my unpredictability for your name is now, — give‧me‧your‧fire‧give‧me‧your‧rain.

On a banal day, everyone you'll meet will tell you, relax, it'll pass away. But nobody will say how and when. Me, like everybody, I'm gonna tell you, — I've been there. I was confronted with a situation similar to yours... [almost...]. Didn't you feel first an indescribable pain that ran through your veins and blood, and all your being, working like a symbiotic, trying to transform you into something else, enough to be able to face fighting with your fury, with your weakness, with every fear that you've been thought that's well hidden? [surely, you felt it... surely, you've been transfigured...] If somebody will tell you that understands you, believe not. It's far to be similar to something lived by others. You have to resist not to lose your mind. Hold on till will appear that bright day to wake you up. Once awakened, you will observe you have the same look outside, but inside you'll be different. You'll be much stronger. You'll have a n...

in my thoughts, your hug bloomed on my wrist slipping me in the calling murmur of your blood delicately, in a sentimental future of our shadows we dance in the rhythm of our pulse and longing our kiss on the moon's corner in a caressing suit heals the self-inflicted wounds created by waiting

Would you wanna love me even today? (today I really need it...) And if you could do it even tomorrow (to love me...), (to kiss me...) (to kiss me exactly as you want me...)؟?

at the hour of a liquoriously calorie i've got the power of summer-lovin' few freshly brewed thoughts derived in my bohemian breeze très delicate my lips with the taste of peppermint want to feel your pastelly imagination

If there's a question what's the answer in the atmosphere of your soul? 𓇼 Are you fascinated, by your subconscious about what you read and listen to? 𓇼 Does the distance between us create one of the most beautiful closenesses? 𓇼 And having a cynical obsession with faith, all that happens makes our cravings survive because of me, thanks to you, or because of you, thanks to me... 𓇼 ...love [؟?]

fragile, in the thoughts of yours, the thunderclouds brought to you the natural scent of love I'm in

you gazed at me, I gazed at you; instantly we've been diagnosed as the carriers of love's bacillus all symptoms accused us deeply as the lips contoured us severely with the cheeky smiles and longs everything you need, — i became; i am the lust, you, the wish-fullfiler; missin' yo' kissin' is passion's thrill

every shade of you, it's like the baby blue sky disguised in motives, ethics, and tones having dialogues in the syntax of a photo's sentences gripped in your unimaginable fantasy's realm, phenomenal than any kind of real one, defined through the undefinable definition of our love created into the universe with all these things, just a little bit to bleed in our whispers' colors written every day in the ink of a story's sound

I keep holding you up-up…tightly, intentionally, exact as are situated all the stars from the entire galaxy,  exact as your joy on me, it spreads while its charm shine it all around and music's the love of mine given

my baby tames everybody making them understand that our love's edited daily, exactly as it happens today written with a fruity accent in the language of flowers and golden ink of the sun on blue sheets of the sea metamorphosed by sirens through a passionate kiss sealed (with adamantium)

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.

I hid some kisses in the deepest inner maze of your eardrum I filled it with music and a few witty words, highly heard in any language sufficiently, my tongue and yours can replace any tone any consonant and syllable we to melt in any new/old sigh invented and storied by both of us multitudes of our fire and joy carved by our desires use beastly sensual hues we fueled with slippery sounds of our mutual lusts and a kiss-kiss-bang-bang volume

a number of whispers walk unhindered  thru the searching realm of my mind they are looking for touching memories in deeds, without end and beginning every time when it happens, I'm busted in; never [the blues won't leave me alone]

your own you, out of my own asset, it's synonym with the way you love me, it's the anatomy of an imaginary hug, it's our unconsumed touch, it's your way to caress me with the softest appellative, ᵉᵛⁱˡ mama... it's the combination of both of us, the composers of happiness, — me too time too time too... you...

it seems you've been calling out my mind in your sweet poisoning your whispers touched me and made me to taste each sensation my dream got chorded in the velvet sheets by the bedding's suspires and I know the alarm clock will be my smile breathed intensely [by you...]

an unstoppable artistical silhouette [it's mine, not yours] a frisson into body blues concealed [that's yours, not mine] dream-makers are drawing the mood [eagerness has charm] any thought into my dreamt dreams [prove it be what I need now] loving you, loving me is not fantasy, [even if seems all about it]

for i'm so in love with you   don't ask yourself... why,  but just think... why not¿?

m m m ...  I have a mad urge for Sicilian blood orange... a crazy impulse to feel the flavored juice on my lips, to get drunk with its scent for making my soul dance and my spirit be deeply deep stimulated all day long

You don't possess so captivating howls of the wolves for how much silence of the moon, it is in me, when your thoughts, tiptoeing, got sneaked inside of mine. You don't possess so many forests, which you'd been wishing to grow 'em in your soul, to make me somehow lose myself, to feel what means blood pulse of yours. You don't possess so-so or too much time to be enough to you, when your whispers burn my lips with verses rhymeless, cos too, today, they're longing for your kiss. You don't possess nor even curses, to snatch me out of any fantasy, where seems I'm laying there about forever, waiting frantically for you to love me, as you promised… You don't possess even tomorrow, for how I'm loving you right now, — into a Monday or a Tuesday, a Wednesday, Thursday or a Friday and Saturday to not forget about of Sunday, when you're to me so cold or too-too passionate.

bullet skein unfurls camouflaged vows, at a random time of day, mechanically; mechanically, you smile, thinking of me; thinking of me with you and without you; the time, enthusiastic, whistles to you, — you made a top choice… but you knew… you knew from the start since we met that's nobody like me… [no—bod—y] 🫦

today, I found myself talking to you in the language of roses ⋆⋆⋆ (j'ai vu ta vie…),  — i saw your life... (full of lust) ⋆⋆⋆ (j'ai vu ta morte…),  — i saw your death... (full of pleasure) ⋆⋆⋆ then… — (one long kiss...), — in divine harmony

blue is full of charm,  it's even more than that the deep tint of its spirits has those particularly psychedelic skills capable to insult you without feeling offended [f🅰️Ⓒ💋 you…] 

(call 911), explain to it, explain to them, — I am in trouble, I fell in love with you, I need to be infused intravenously with your schmaltzy kind and your polychrome (call 911), explain to it, explain to them, — my soul's full of clouds and heavy rains it sings a blues, (as incantations) as if it is the honeyed slave of your soulfulness (call 911), explain to it, explain to them, — your sun transfixed my eyes and muses, my senses are in agony of love and pathologically, I look as if I am a temporarily insane kind in a cliché (call 911), explain to it, explain to them, — my mind has been corrupted, got bleached, it keeps me captured in something similar to quarantine… I desperately need you to get me cured if you cannot or can you keep a secret, pardon me, but the dear politeness it doesn't give a damn what others think, — (call 911), explain about it, explain to them

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 •