Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

I see things, might others can't see; I hear sounds, might others can't hear; I live in a world full of colors but some perceive me in only one tint; I love you, means my salute; The sun means my smile; The moon means my murmurs; The flora and fauna, sea, and the sky wears my name; The color of my blood and spirit orchestrates my feelings; The universe is my home; I'm a dreamer but most of all, I am Woman a Confident Woman.

dementedly, — his mouth devours her, sliding softly deep down to her intimate cliffside aphrodisiac, — his sap liquefies in her anemone exorcising, — her phobia together culminate shine giggling equally… — (love you), I love You too

you forgot a thought in my deeply thought, wallpapered with kisses, — twice as tough, impregnated in the nectar of my emotions with potion of love, – lusty, savory, yummy, hurried and imprudent, like a tiny little bee

a botanical complexity, citrusy, slightly sweet, innocently, succulently, incredibly, — my scent accompanies him…

dreams materialize, dreams evaporate, like the virga through controversy debates in reply of a schism, apparently masked

a fugacious moment, a murmur of the purple rain… and us… — amorously… dancing…

I anchored my dream in the garden of your soul flexible, your heart sloped its pulse to mine ebullient, our blood begun ce petit quelque chose the flirty poem was spread fulfilling in our longing

your murmur, — pandemic kiss your tongue, — a savant slipping deepen arousing me… easy

that day which led into that tomorrow and that cold sweat on my skin and those nerves with a profound disgust for you disappeared, abandoning me, metamorphosed me into a lonely wolf, a wolf carrying just sad emotions and with all its hope in hell, — [period]

i'm rather a spirit of moonbeams writing the verses on a ludic page 𓇼 guided by a fragility phonation, i am unchained to stir up trance 𓇼 i'm a star sent from sky's shelters, an exiled voice gurgling in yours 𓇼 higher, i'm any inner music piece, (the score of time) to shine you on 𓇼 i'm personifying all of my lovin', i am the scent you are attired... 𓇼 [i am...], [i am a kind of dance…], a dance that dances you... coquet

it is a pain inside me that I must hide deep cos outside, there, somewhere, some wolves, if they could feel me howling of suffering, would eat me alive; a reason for pretending everything is fine, and flattering them just to let me be but without letting them end out of my sight

furtive, your sleep, sneaked in my bed kissing my eyes, (to dream with you) and I feel and burn and I hear and live and I see I'm predestined to love you me, docile like a tigress, you, epidemic, me, phased, you, make‧me‧feel‧so‧good

tonight, I'm gonna put you on my lips letting your mouth talk with mine… [love stories] your tongue will be a hyper pen active implied firmly in my physic's geometry, [full of silky sap] conjugated at feminine, my heartbeats will fill your deep dreams… [exactly as I love you]

I'm thinking about your eyes and the night it pampers them with a kiss I'm thinking about your smile and your furtive smile makes my day a poetry a fall of flowers thrives in me luring like Dona-Aurora's scent to spread out love's sound hmm... adore how you feel me

my feelings are captured in some micro fictions' instrument 𓇼 the music from the background renders a so ravishing passage luring me in a psychic transit 𓇼 just as the wind plays with my hair just as the sun kisses my cheeks just as the stars shine in my eyes just as the moon hugs me 𓇼 but when music's gonna stop, could you intuit how orphan would be stories' vocabulary and where the feelings will dawdle

comforted in your maverick thoughts my emotions transpire desire my pheromones sprout inside you an impregnated passion all the love of mine is on your lips, — charmed, you touch yourself, — instantly in our feverish nest, we meet

aesthetic of his dream, — I am the epicenter of longings, — our unconsciously love each tremor, each shiver, — sweet debauchery of our being the moon, the sun, — we are, —  a day, a night, — damnation torch // flame, — what a curse……

breezy challis, —  versatile demons silky… velvety… — his sourced joy… in my imagination embroidered

hard liquor, — hesitant waft… a kiss surprised in appearance like a comforting guillotine

I've never gone from the place I loved you. Actually, since then, I sculpt you in heretic poems with air and without air in my lungs. Like a cylinder, my sentiments rolled and rolls [still] for being materialized in my written and unwritten desires. I've never gone from the place I loved you. I feel you in my head, shoulders, knees, and toes. Would you like it to be true? I mean, to call you back again?

the fissure identified between us has lust property … a greedy desire conjugated free … going along with a smile

not insipid, not inodorous, not insoluble not without a face, not without a physique not black, not white, not both sides not without identity, not an entity not intangible, not indecipherable not with phobias, not with chaos but just in the aptitude of the ecstasy guided from nowhere to everywhere in visions of the paradise we belong with hallucinogenics inclinations (whispered the love's sound in some longing's realm)  

your phone buzz with sparks; (you smile), saw your sweet trouble; i throb on phone's screen

with vocation I scull in your mind tempting you loving get sculled you'll invite me perpetually your thoughts sprightly are sculling me hold on, I'm coming

a riverwalk, — my body; your mouth, — my lover voodoo me transpire magic suspirations…

the longing arches me; on my pillow is spread your coquettish dream; its echo stops me suffer; I don't oppose, I savor it; insanely charmed, avid moaning in anticipation for my virility technique of loving you unleashed, I'm begged in your hell

my harmony invites, your equilibrium, into me; let's play, but watch out, don't push it much, — your seductive velleity like a bliss, should be, articulated tenderly, piano, on my mind, to sail, for your raindrops of kisses to fall down on my skin, and your eyes to radiate intensely, in my eyes, — profound Herculean, even purer than the sky

you, brute benthos creature, i was prepared to be yours... 𓇼 i felt desire's scream in you, yearning to taste me, to get deep down inside me, like a holothurian to move thru my body, and famished to torture me passionately... 𓇼 instead, you metamorphosed in a minuscule blue butterfly... 𓇼 since then, you talk in colors

if I ever know something about the stars, it's they do music, — music measuring the immeasurable music embracing the indeterminable music crossing the universe... constantly discovering the unknown... — the one me the one you intertwined in its secrecy

before being a journalist she's been a typographer typesetter or the linotype wasn't for her a secret the ink, the font, the paper, the offset or bookbinding proofreader... publication, traditional current routine librarian, even a colporteur she was already in-between she, — my one and only goddess my mom, - my unique lady to whom I'm deeply inclined with dedication acclaiming

a mental imagery wings its way up to the satellite of your sky, — suspiciously, in the sky of yours it is late, — it is infernally late... yet, perceived, is a tremored whisper on my skin written with your mind it's about a cryptical story about us, — two lovers swaying smoothly together …preoccupied with nothing else

like any species of hydrangea, as I am, as you are, as we are be it white, pink, yellow, green, purple, blue, the pH is sublime like a smile on the lips of time with any color's ascetic perfume it is me, — it is you, — it is us, a🎸riff in the painting of love

graced in chromatic love of yours, my lips know what they want they ask nothing, — just take, engaging your lips playfully to be like a bumblebee on a peony bud… guided gently by a lighthouse light through a foamy curtain of stars, blue paradise savors… our prelude uninhibited

in the writer's farm, — you'll find me planted, — my name's love… on the music's farm thinkin' bout you you... humming… in all artists' farms, i am their attire, sound, color, word, ‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧‧ i am the muse

to not wrench your morning fragrance, i lean softly upon your inflamed wrath letting this love-starved heart of mine to migrate inside you enthusiastically, pleasant to arouse you, and to listen to my minute, springing up within forever through the field of wildflowers bathed into nights of loving, of passions, of us

you slip in any cell of mine like an irresistible quicksilver making art with my blood keeping me captive with the graces of a silvery fox and the instinct of a wolf for you talk with distant stars and with the moon and seas  to guard me like a treasure for I emit the perfume of love in III types of notes, felt deep, me... — you... — us...

are illustrations that transport me promptly in any village all over the world, — companion becomes the one who surprised the moment, — coquette, the essence of a uniform message is the clock that accentuates the atmosphere, lustily, like our tête-à-tête, a trick of the light

unintended, — the mouth got woken... somehow, the fingertips have sketched delicately gestures on the lips contour the movements of words are flowing so ample between a melodious sound, gentle, velvety, and alluring perceived atmosphere evokes therapeutic senses without involving a petrissage therapy but just a bam‧bang‧boom smooth vibe

he hunts discreetly her blue gaze, to his dream in continuum progress even the evening sun shines on him effervescent in oriental rhythms through a byzantine aperture she appears as enigma in abstract spreading an elite heady fragrance as he hunts discreetly, her blue gaze

in the scheme of his soul I'm weightless, — gravity is zero, and yet I'm felt felt silky, like a peony's petal, pedantic and asymmetric caught inside its tender echo echo crystalline, gifted to wilt till heals our longings' fragility like the pulse of a rain a rain untamed …as weightlessly as I'll wait […in the scheme of his soul]

i felt my presence into the silent chaos of his mess, and the impact on him, in any district that he trod i felt i am for him, not closer one, but a concept, as he transplanted all my faults into a beauty ideal i felt even my dreams more true as any truth i live, deducted arrogantly, as an ironic irony, (because…) …because you had the boldness to close your eyes, blinded by the shimmering darkness of mine and his

his every touch overwhelmed me utterly; the passion and gentleness made my body to tremble in his waves with foamy senses, my limbs to feel effervescently frissons in semitones of blues equal with lapis-lazuli out of the edge of the love's galaxy, melted in our emotion's sound, deeply like an ocean, able to resurrect any metaphor to the rank of bohemian experience for rising up ecstasy

Yesterday's thoughts call thoughts of today. Together are hand in hand to succeed to go thru this fire, away from being stabilized yet for appearance, look like a dangerous game with yesterday in today for tomorrow's smile, mine and yours, both converted from words in fact, me to live like me, you to live like you.

you had put the longing's music in my soul, pairing it with discreet tones of your whispers to explore me gently in all my existence using subtlety and the tender sweetness  of your entity, you manipulated meticulously, like a pharmacist, my flower's essence patiently and friendly like a teacher, insisting on whatever subject, and like a perfumer, who keeps equilibrium on the playground love, you styled the answers so savagely you had set the longing's music in my soul paired with Do-Si-Do ingredients of the nightrider you are, the chef of my fantasies

some tagged me, — poetess... [shhh...] [like you, i smiled too] [trenchantly arrogant] [didn't correct 'em], i let their faux pas beliefs slip lento to my fingers, choosing to pen 'em with the words of my soul's language, having as proofreader the whispers of my emotions texts got molded in tints of my eyes' dialect, rhyming with a questioning laugh, deeply and artfully aimed ​by my spectral thoughts with crystalline sounds like some infant's sin my DNA, like the graphene, defined to me how to love... [to love you...] [to love stuff…], [which must be done as much as is necessary, gradually and sufficiently to not get injured] … some tagged me, — poetess... [shhh...], they felt my sweet escape at the rococo degree

he understood, — statement of own responsibility, it was not what I was looking for, so he took my body's fever by reading my mind 𓇼 skilled, he moved in my phone running in my palms, following the line of my life with the art's attitude, to become the geometry of my passion 𓇼 he learned to moisturize my lips, murmuring incandescent with his degrees in my optical rotation, using like a weapon, the kiss 𓇼 patiently and timed innocently by our passion's chronometer, love lavished us the equilibrium of its sublime echo with high notes

my eyes on you behind the stars are breathing time, intensifying the magic of our blue club composition, scattered by the beauty of the memories, on wings of the moon, at the apogee of a hypothetical world full of passion, and the endlessness of lovely fantasy where is no ceiling, or any other surface-level kind, for I rooted you in me a bunch of times and got it all

my dreams are produced with the happiness' voice lithographed in my soul with magnolia's perfume in unfathomable editions to excite your thoughts at the hour of my everyday with a fast and safe attitude exactly as google chrome or any other browsers brag, classic and not good at love yet free & humble addiction

the structure of reality, a mystery of each day 𓇼 (the right way doesn't exist, for orange isn't a color just the perfume of her skin spread with his fingers) 𓇼 (for his mouth is occupied to complain about the silhouette of her lips) 𓇼 playful visitors kissing a some French 75 instead salut, welcome, let's go

the equalizer of our emotions is... — [it's You] configuring an unpredictable word in a fête to supply cadence to mood [it's Me] the pulse of two in any product of the imagination [it's us] the most efficient treasure... so sly so heyyy so to ask nothing [it's you & me] it's the demented answer of love like the rock phenomenon, like joy

I scream with all my lungs and with all my other lives related to everything I am as a mom, woman, and wife, daughter, sister, and relative, colleague, teammate, friend, wanted, imposed, and loved; in invincible dreams entitled Healer, Fighter, Lover, or Hero and not a stork kind, seeped, created, or based in mysticism and not on scientific visions, - Stay Home! Home is our Weapon! Make yourself Unseen like that thing unseen, the COVID-19 which plucked our life.

i get open like a bud of a flower i smile playfully like is its petals i have no fixed rules like a robot sum my flaws, i'm not a mannequin i love… (you…), a love bred in a dream no matter if it's a.m./p.m. hour, i'm in… look in my soul, there's my refuge

you'll never be to me a stranger, but the friend with an alter ego, prompt always to cheer me up, to make any joy of mine bigger, and any trouble of mine smaller, you, a foreign friend I never met

dreamfully, — a blue butterfly, bathed in the sun's rays and spoiled with moon's kisses, has been lured into my vase through a sensual bouquet, guarded elegantly by some future collections from yesterday's present and demagogy, when love loved to start the fire, explosively, and not just to track my flair during the sea's susurrations, at any on and off la rencontre

through a unidirectional portal, couched on the cardinal climax of the musical notes, ♫, intense kissed on the whispers' bridge, your delights follow my delights the atmosphere's so passionate; it looks like a clef on a staff 🎼 extrapolating thru a cloud's fluff, tinier than Atlantic's dimensions but a bit bigger than shored lisps

whisper my name write my mirage experience me, — in the name of longing in the name of verbs in the name of mystery in the name of appetite for my smile, for my eyes that kiss you, caress you for here I am your drunkenness, urging you valiantly to bathe me in the dew of your smile, to see me blossoming on dawn's edge of your lips on mine, — profiled to not get as one perceived feelin' dangerous  for I whisper your name for I write your mirage for I experience you bohème

the night defines my atmosphere, — noises of the town hums softly thru my thoughts, — the clock ticks slowly your sonorous tremor to moon's ecstasy, — cos in a smooth vibe of a destination is the cyclic crazy love among midnight and goddess of the dawn

when I think of you, I am another human being cos the other person has its own story to write when I longing you, I am your forbidden dream cos you're nothing but a royal shadow butterfly when I'm missing you, I paint you and frame you with sleepless colors under the rays of my moon cos when I'm writing to you, I use astral essences pulsed by my sun, to bring you back to the light

your lips pressing lightly my lips, — a fine pamper in the liquid condition, wildish and sweetly, — like honey your touches drip rain on my body to purify it with an electrified solution of your natural tonic, fire full of art your thought plunging in my thought, it's writing to me, frankly, all your love, not to be read, but to meet us again

was it not my purpose to fall in love with you but to be happy, to taste your wildish passion, the magic of a miracle you are, my storyteller, the writer costumed as a soldier of the words using the polychromic vestments of illusions provoking me, confessing till I'm pouring down amazing, for I hate you so much as I miss you

one day you'll see me and you'll ask me, — "is it you?" politely I'll reply to you, — "no...I'm not..." is the weird aftermath of knowing you only in my dreams using the parade of feelings with the cryptic parody in the satire of life for the creed of its games one day I'll see you and I will ask you, — "where have you been?" and you'll reply to me politely, — "nowhere but in your dream"

staring easy like that, you've struck a pose mirroring the own art exposed by yourself for predicting few sentiments absurdly felt in your mind and soul rolling unexplainable with the brusque desire to run away with me through a place of universe illustrated and evoked intentionally to live the love at full

with the ink of happy... single in the dreams using the alphabet of stars, in your calendar, like a party drug, I am... a mysterious moon written and portrayed in any day's caprice tactically as you sing in my crepuscular zone indifferent what season could be felt in you

bizarrely, like a shadow of an idea in the blue moon of your thought, I've appeared without any weight, like a stain of blood, — to be felt any day and ever-more, provoked with least a sophisticated interest, for your mind is a picture untamed and me still intimidated, I dare you to find me in the atlas of your soul

with a vestment tissued in a veil of steam, the morning, like a dream, arose scented at my window with an aim to provoke me to adopt the guise of an irresistible blaze fine chaired by a playful beam of the sun sleepy, without knowing if it's ready or not, any beam of the moon have been let it ride through the essences of my luring nights controlled by the spell of your lavishly kiss sent to feel you as if I'm so close I can taste it

one day you are to me my gifted master-chief which gives aroma to my joy thru lots of love but on another day you're a deep-rooted one who set me not to walk that walk… too much one day you are the fancy face in my tomorrow and on another day the essence of my words one day seems is archives along with others, so, erase data, impress today, to get our late, earlier