Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

i asked my dreams if they have any news about you… (none of them knew anything) i asked my dreams if you even exist somewhere, truly… (all of 'em woven you in music's tang) i asked my dreams if analogically, my love is your love… (instantly, every dream fell asleep)

it begins with a tiny tingle in the throat, provoking you to get a counterbalance by taking out of you some wacko noise, while your body contorts itself, intense in standard terms, the cough's installed, the eyes have shed some lordless tears, and from the sinuses trickle salty drops which your hands wish… to wipe 'em off everything stings gravely; possible to be, [some allergy], [some common cold], or your physique longs… [out of the blue], for antiviral treatment and multivitamin [your mind supposes, symptoms confirm], every part of yours will be chasing ghosts, will edit the whisper in the cough, the hug in the sneeze, and will lull 'em with hot tea

your moment of happiness when it happens, looks like the joy of some very young goats playing and grazing in your soul's meadow for nothing can't fit on your earth and sky with the lovely sequelae of your happening the buds of all your vibrations, stitch in time any emotion, making crackle the firm visage of your poker face that's depicting the ember of your chromatic eyes to intuit new feelings on the animated road of fancy, yours & mine

It gropes through the night's kitchenette your love, famished for mine. Finding that's busy with another fantasy has fulfilled itself by consuming stars. Some of 'em, too spicy, burn love's lips leaving you no choice but to wait for me (with a glass of red… red wine…).

i want more action between words' space, howled your thoughts, so music filled 'em

the skin of my lips has been fated to you… thanks to touch's delirium in love's princely kiss; painted in a vision or codified, I really don't know when the skin of my lips has been fated to you; but you see, i regret nothing; after all, i got your savor, thanks to touch's delirium in the longing's color… [on the skin of my lips]

oh, lover by sea, — you opted to get to me only as shadow being nonentity no one will actually feel if you want me… by all neglected, my billets d'amour listed will pass quietly yet your dryness will be watered smoothly in my dark tones as your irises plan pictures of my silhouette known by you only

late last night I tried falling asleep, but the night had a big mood of talking i can tell you this because of its manner of giving that subtle smile to me didn't take much to go out of my cozy bed letting its thrill bud inside me so the day, the sunlight lover… it guarded my dreams in the spirit of the night even the happiness took the shape of me while a sweet whimper filled my rousing Sunlight Lover (Moonshine Lover) by Soldier Story

Poetic, – the hormones of music are invading my coo-ca-choo. The cadence of all my pleasures, it devils the agony in ecstasy. The tiny butterflies donate to me, every frenglishly frisson. With the ink's rhythm, my words are entrapping you, too. Admitting I'm not perfect, furtively, you deeply track my Essence. You're hooked on my Poetic Allusion, (my playlists ♪ your mood passkey).

i applied to poetry's lips strawberry bonbon color on its eyelashes, i applied nightly climaxed mascara the cheeks, i touched 'em with crystalline breathing hair, i let it flow naturally to diffuse its suave scent its explosive chic attire i prettified it with stilettos feeling it ready for traveling i kissed it, wishing for it, — all the good in coupling with many other poetries

like a ladybug, my thoughts walk on tiptoes toward a leaf of a rose shaded by its petals full of crystalline dew from a dream's origin where was never too late to love you, [never] this hysterical lust kept in my coded essences for five long years, you felt it, too, on your lips, hunting me musically in a bouquet of red wine just enough for your whispers to kiss my body i lost even my thoughts' number full of spirit since i've been loving you… metamorphosed in a rain of a summer, in a season of the sun, saluting inquiringly, our love's bizarre script

the drama of this world are the imbecile people flow infinite rivers of ink about them for nothing evilest, it's for they have most contagious malady their affection is named fame, – power, – money in their hypocrisy, we are classed as abject caprices their pervert style gave us even a social status kind we scream we're human, they see just animals in us life got abbreviated to be an absenting way to think robotized, we wake, we eat, we percolate, we go to work we do kids and educate 'em that life is hard, it's agony everything that's beautiful we implemented, calling it …poetry yet, accompanied by a tune is tagged to please a dream

i'm the blood group of yours, — the endless feelings' donor the wildflowers' scent transfuses in you, — my love your lips with a simple gesture involve my morning breakfast my smile, in a time's myster(y) creates to you an exquisite day my passion, your emotions, — like music, — adjusts our throb my name is your favored color, you're life… my favorite dream

it dreams, the summer, in the breeze of my pen softened in the trees' ink about you and the sea 𓇼 there, the flowers howl, a duck talks with a fish, my smile has shifty tints pigmented by longing 𓇼 the room feels fired up, the rain's a secret story, day tries to hum a tune ejaculated by the dark 𓇼 any dream got ticked off, like you, like me, like sea of a summer from a day aired by my pen's breeze

i wing along a branched spiral of some sweet dreams located on a certain planet, where, your love for me is keeping me safe comforted inside you, my Venus can't tear out from the wild waves of your fantasies, to rain with gallons of the truth's illusion even if i love you, reality's tactic is rather ill-shapen, cos some 'insects' try to claim you still, forcing me to dance with whatever feeling yet, in spite of everything, my words are waltzing as i fly,  winging some sweet dreams along a branched spiral, like your love for me

your voice expires, inspires, kisses, sips me, invoking me to check my phone your voice makes the silence to whisper while ingests my carnal feelings' avatar your voice harnesses delicacy's naturalness, as if it knows I have dreams of you your voice is in my head, — no one imagines with who i talk to

my words dance docile but their rhythm just you can catch tracing my river

my night turned up its lights toward your dreams your dreams dream about me using rhymes rhymes are rhyming with some moods' spectacle moods' spectacle makes dreams come true dreams come true when we have sex for breakfast breakfast is you, wanting me exact as I want to fuck you, baby when night turns up its lights

your yen inside me screams Mephistophelian, — i'm yours… [forever] my seductive dream encrypted on your pillow keeps alive your hell its moaning feeds you to nourish me with your love, — haunted and famished

furtively, i influenced you to stroll  on the invisible path of my scent selected in some literary studio, — felt as i wonder, felt as you wonder anchored in a soul-wide vista land

inside your mind, my silhouette romanticizes sinuous and sensual with the breeze of your thoughts designed on the stubble of a somewhere sea in one continuous line, love's content feels me as the gift of posing you longing for me in a challenging nude appearance [and you're smiling, knowing, i belong with you]

soft morning kisses delightfully chase away the ominous thoughts … wielding compliments, all misty blue hours vanished in sound's nothingness … soul's stillness imports every melodious echo nestled through stories … emotionally palpation got weird, likewise to breathe love's moment

the music has questions and answers… to ignore, it blabbed out intense, last night, a dreamy choir its resting voice that loves respiring all my clime, it dove into my life, politely to savor my evil mind so, thru my gaze's navel and the navel of my soul, i've could sense its touch, guiding its groovy form evoked, its smile's chalice stole me a noble moan, magicking me to be much happier than day before

every bit of my writings are growling, are snoring are joking, are laughing, are singing, are dancing; their snazzy compositions tame you and savage you, discolor you and color you, you, to swim through them frenglishly pathologically; every bit of my materials is, by fixation, a phenomenon; is your hot friends who aren't like a drug; they're the drug; anything's sacred; invites you to get wildly poetic, to feel me, to play me, right as you'd wish, my lust, on your dreams' shelf

at times, as a writer, you're screwed  if your words ramble without climax paralyzed into a marginal symptom the main characteristic of your spirit corresponds to a muse whose tariff is billed in polyandry or polygamy's art for you know, y'know so bloody well, art never reacts to monogamy's coin, and chic words' silhouette, cultivates

I am the writer of my life. Each year is a chapter. Shutting is an enigma. You think you know me for you leafed a few pages at a… some ergodic hour? Dear, my life is a comedy. I am the single protagonist. Every wink is a mystery. Some might be not, nor even a background appearance. Ignore their noise. Worth it. Even the sun and the moon reacts at how warmly or icy I am, while rain admires at how freshly or stormy is me, again. I've been conjugated by love and I conjugate love still. I made bad choices and likely, I'll do it still. I frown and laugh. You think you know me, just cos I am the poet of this poetry.  Dear, stop doing what you do. Don't make me laugh so muchly.

till I finalize my hello, you're at home, while some didn't leave yet like an empirical kind, wind down, and look, to convince yourself in the shelter of the art you can phrase dégagé, [I long to feel your love]

his love heard stones' language moaning for his lady's fingers 𓇼 weren't an ordinary quality kind on the contrary, the ogled ones 𓇼 the ruby chose the thumb and blue topaz, the index finger 𓇼 amethyst chose the middle one and the pearl leaped on the pinkie 𓇼 the diamond was already soulful on her… justifiably finger

some have the aptitude to make up your eyes in a disappointing color and some others think that your smoky eyes is a new chic tendency some of them slept, ate, and bathed, in your home, while some just goggled some make you believe they are best friends, until their enmity wakes you up and you wash your eyes, and you change your home, and (again), you get born

To tell me you love me isn't enough. You must phrase yourself in action. Your mind's burden must be just me to soothe my catastrophic thoughts. I'm your paranormal powers' magnet. My restless heart acquires your love. Feed me with each viable happiness. This will delimit you… and define you. Your hunch will be eyes' pearl's bijou. It'll incite philosophers to perform art. It'll mastermind angels and demons amid eros and agape in time's infinity.

I'll never stop to release you, on the contrary, I will be squeezing you cruelly with my mind inside my being as nobody there to save you. You'll feel me as if you'd be a con, so deeply captivated & neglected by my bohemian love.

you, the one who knows I love you beyond presence, beyond absence, stop having doubts about my vibe I have the scent of you, lined on me, the happiness is meowing on my lips, love moans, this time feels different … you, the one who knows I love you right from the threshold of dreams, I have in my eyes, passion's rhythm the smile of my desire kisses hungry and bursts out with its seducing potion, privileging your nerves in my nerves … you, the one who knows i love you beyond presence, beyond absence, stop having doubts about my vibe … [forever, it's just you, just I, beyond]

Lucidly, you opted to be seen as a sable, similar to the own you that could've been if you hadn't censured yourself, a full me. Me, the passion, the mystery, the joy. Me, the life, the dance, the happiness. Me, the curiosity, the caress, the love. Me, held now to roam inside your lungs, carrying a wild sweet box confusa scent, trodden by the soles of your sky, [once]. (despite that), Me, myself, and I, won't ever be gone astray. You denigrated me as a hooligan. Now, feel all my rage torturing you, as you tortured me.

it climbed artfully to my lips a royal fleshy cherry fruit… the juicy aroma of its dew, plunged firmly in my mouth; instantly made me hiss out with joy, whoopee–tie–ai–a and its sugar sugars me still, over & over, erecting my day 1st variant, — it climbed artfully to your lips a royal fleshy cherry fruit the juicy aroma of its dew plunged firmly in your mouth instantly made you hiss out with joy, whoopee–tie–ai–a and its sugar sugars you still, over & over, erecting your day

on the sky of my words, the letters are sprinkled by the kiss of your truth chased and certificated in a breathtaking dream

clandestinely, your dreams open window of my dreams they're ripened in the sin's oven of ideating me, of ideating you vibe is diluted in mint's color of your eyes fixed on mine your one desire is I, invited with my one desire sizzling in yours …and in a snap dreams go in their silky sleep, [dawn budded]

I made my way to the fever tree with the branch of my senses; like a fire through the jungle I sparked love's ignition in you; metamorphosed in a bonbon with pure fruity aroma, I sank in ...you – the luxury man on fire, cheffing me (in your inferno); fevered, I dared to climb out of your veil as a blazing torch; that's why you're lusting for me, a bonbon with pure fruity aroma; you're damn too infested with my love's succulent mutation;

using a crown of juniper and the cosmos, my spirit is wrapping in your soul's flight through the meadow of analeptic dreams each sensation emanates discreet aromas manipulating chic the moonlit magic's flair fine seduced thru whispering flowers' spell the transformation we're in, it's a challenger enough for our polysyllabic love to relapse from mystery fiction to a happy life's reality

we tiptoed around it so many-many times with own visions, with the other's visions until we built a realm of the visionaries we tiptoed around it, we're tiptoeing still, to chisel poems' column, to scent chicly message's molecule with the words' atoms we tiptoed, we're tiptoeing still, till we'll stop, as if we'd want to shake up the dream which reminds you to remind me what you miss

(positive… childlike… and smart…), [self-loving… and without defect…], (distraught, vulgar, mostly absent…), [or even saying, — hypocrite…], (with many-sided… or a freak…), [i'm not…], (i'm not?!), — [i'm not what some wish me to be], (i'm not what everything i feel), [nothing, regardless of whatever i act], (a soulless one… a dirty mind…), [not seen… not easy to get scanned], (because), — [stop...], [pause…], (this is a mask), [that is an aim], (this is a thought-through sentiment), [that is a test], (this is the fact), [some have to get informed a lot] made stars with moon a tête-à-tête, both confidently robed up in an infinity nightgown tailored in blue (not for just me…), [not for just you…]

i filled some spaces with some lovely motley words… i think you know 'em stressed but invited was, — [proofreader of the mood] my muse's muse, — you laughing, you played and showed your amour proper… cheered me a lot, — cheered

I am trained to remember even now some clouds in some sable tempers, bringing from nowhere, out of the blue, a frightening rainfall I tend to feel their drops' corpulence under my soles still, counting my steps and lauding my team's equipment, overly It's like I'm absorbed in their ripples, that sends you to help yourself to me, if you have those goals, enough to win when you step on the handball court As an athlete, I'm trained to remember I was born to be a champion. So I am.

at my this town's hour, wild ducks are in their kingdom, rainbow waits for them

I don't know when, (I can't remember) when your genteel thought has slid on spiraled arms of my chic dreams 𓇼 Has been around a new dawn's debut kissed by the touch of darkness still? Got no idea. I'm tangled in love's-ville.

lighthouse glints slip smoothly on the shore of dreams' time zone their beautiful horizon's portraiture unveils your moon's smile a li'l closer deep, on coral reefs inserted longing is set to not get lost at sea anchored on a driftwood dawn's pendulum sailed you to me instead of a message in a bottle, i found you whispering to me, — who's the one drunk with love and waits for you on the island of hope?

are you hungry, are you thirsty somehow do you feel alone 𓇼 do you see me, do you hear me am i too frosty, am i too warm 𓇼 can you breathe and move still do you think of me or just dream 𓇼 i'm your planet, i'm your home keep me safe, to keep you, too 𓇼 it echoed in blue, the green view

how often you said, — (never fall in love again…), never shine a light how often you vowed but broke your own commitment, in love's name, again whose spell flow in you, who's the face without a face, whose love hunts you still and why begin again, — does the love like to play jokes to make the saints laugh

When the sky stopped moving my physique began to shudder. The words of my unvoiced fear began scrawling on mind's walls. Another universe has required to get inside my soul's sanctuary. A mad fury began to scream out. Battle collapsed in nothingness. Out of there, got found a way out. I did. But I still keep on fighting.

 I woke to the sound of singing flowers. Their delicate scent irradiates any day. Their form is the glowing heart's smile and their appearance activates the light behind the eyelids at life's coordinates. Lifetime has its own sound, own scent, own shape, [so unequivocally magical], where even nice ones do a bit villainess.

in a dreamer's world, standing on the edge of love, you're lured to immerse … complementary, longing's voice etched in whispers, hallucinates you … there's no censorship, — mercy of the night dissolves wrong feelings … so softer than soft night's voicelessness surrounds me, wants to hear my dreams … romantically, we're like a dancing machine, watchers count our steps… … [j'ai fait le mille pas…]

smoothly, with some thoughts, I kissed your mild summer wine and I sank in its orbit, at once a yore playful cicatrix got cured,  as if the happiness I looked for was hidden through its chalice yet, if you feel me all around you, as if you'd breathe what I breathe, don't get brunched by yourself wait for the call of my thoughts by kissing a delicate summer wine to get you to sink in the orbit where I am

silent love letters arouse soul's music around at kiss a.m. upon the sky, a bird chirps suavemente, — no limit to my love i'm as winged as her, i love smoothly… at a dream's degrees  to say it [isn't comfy] so i'll have to say i love you in a song

because your mouth was evoked in deities' elixir to devour the ambiance of grapes' quintessence, the stars, clandestinely, bathed me in your dream your lust, like the night's skin, seduced my psyche by summoning my longing from your outer space boned with the rage of your love's vestige for me i'm not me anymore, for i'm attired with your soul, my heartbeats vibrate in the pockets of your heart, time sealed us with a kiss to bud on poetry's alley‥

One day, we'll meet on the 13th line, page 31, chapter, — love's philosophy. The author has pictured us in a dispute about whose missed the other more. To get any reply, get the melodic book and let the emotion run inside your mind. I bet you'll be impressed by how a hug and a kiss can heal the longing's pain. I can risk you'll get caught in birds' trill, and you'll feel the budding flowers' scent. A magic cosmos will be shown to you, to laugh, to cry, to spy on toward new I. Its energy will feed you, will ravish you, will make you wish to dance with me. Nanosized, you'll live me in a lot of bios. Out of one, I was sent here to love you.

play loud to me, extravagant man let your divine fantasies interact the aesthetic of their susurrations let 'em run exclusively in my mind my equilibrium will get palpitating shoved by the vociferation of lusts subtly, my tactics will get you tingle driving you to seal them with a kiss

she left me waiting smooth with the deadly sin and with bone-lazy words' fragrance vectored onto moon's shafts she left me long for you, — this enigmatic lady fantasy with her so long discussions, and with the wrong divinity she left me to induce woman's grammar that I am in the breath's exponent of man's grammar that you are she left me to let you to do me to do you a holiday with my love's damnation from cellar to end floor of lust she, through its classless act took my hell by ceding it to you, you, from a mythical realm where always, i'll defy to come

geeking away with the fairies through her exquisite playlist he channeled on a star from one life's fantasy of his slyly, he thrust star's claws into the liver of her night and then in her teal-hued eyes that have kept her apart that's the reason why he got in her lust's chemical compound tactfully inlaid and assimilated by his love for her in his odyssey

onto the sun's shoulders is smoldering your longing some kittenish clouds succeeded in tempering it down, much closer to earth on sea's spine skates the lust and right just like I love you passion's flood surfs thrilling [to rule the world… …to change the sin] it undid its clunk, a dream calling me out, calling you in

the eyes of my moon it looks for you everywhere; she longs for you, too … don't turn back to me; the love I give isn't for you, — she heard you mumbling … surely, her love is single monster that moon knows hid inside your bed … heartfelt, you'll be asked why don't you tell me the truth kept on the blind side … like an ancient one and somewhere, miles from nowhere, you wait for me still

don't come any closer, — i'm your worst bad friend that's gonna seduce you till will synchronize your dream's heartbeats with my freedom's throb whispered touchingly in the night's left ear lord and master sun devoured by loves' tint volatile, the mystic night, kissed around day's ankle, it sealed up the moment with a swanky smile kind

scintillations of my eyes, — a subtly slyly giggle tongues' interconnection, — the lineament of a kiss a tender slap on posterior, — a bonbon, stolen by you splitting something unique, — a magic look of your lust confidently, I dare to feel it, — love lives in my dreams' ville

To some extent, between ballasts and luxury sides, sit the feelings. Feelings in brute shape, which to be expressed must be chiseled. Chiseled by one who loves to claim deep answers, artfully poetized. Poetized, a tongue wetting lips, a gaze to other lips that focus on me. On me, if they want to be heard or long to be kissed [7 seconds to decide] Decide at once, till the phone rang and like a tableau that feeling got hung at thoughts' degree rank.

I am the title of the poetry the argument of the essay I'm glazed in a prose style with one's poetic essence I start when the page ends to navigate into your mind I'm like the morning coffee and blood-red wine at night I am the symbiote of loves and as time goes I'm newer I am recited and compared in any trope that's fathomed I am a timelessly kind one living an infinite of feelings I do the best in all I do about offsetting art into a flawless •••• it verbalized Moon to the Sun in a Bohemian dialect marveling themselves why you still don't know my name