Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

you loved, and love me, very godlike... (my love...) you never touched me... (but neither god) you've never shown in front of me... (but neither god) I never heard your voice... (but also neither god) and yet, you do miracles... (exactly the same as god...) ⁂ back at it... over again... I'm not religious... (but neither god) I swear... I'm born of love... I look divine... (I am the sweetest sin... of god) but if I look for you, who am I looking for... (nobody knows... not even god...) I don't complain, I'm loved... (godlike...), — I'm an abstract in your mind who urges you, — stop playing god, show up yourself... (sin wants to know who I'm in love with...)

the sun flaunts its radiance on me, the wind is caressing me timidly, the sand is kissing my soles' skin while your sky echoes in my eyes with intangible kinds of memories, syllabling, (i've-come-to-love-you)

If you dunno to conquest anymore the someone's heart, ask ChatGPT; maybe like you, the other person asks the AI what to do to boost you. You want to eat but dunno what, enumerate what's in your fridge; the bot will do you an instant list or even more, till you are pleased. You don't know or you don't want, will lose in your brain the contrast; no problem... you've got the Bard, you're not a tricker you are stupid. You chose to renounce to yourself, at anything that makes you human; what does it matter anymore when you lost your own connection with you.

joy comes when I bite madly out of life, juicy like a peach, filled to the brim, to look like a balloon made lusty sandwich with the body's bread baked in mind's jungle, (mine... and his...) happiness is felt when the lips, (mine and his) whistle dementedly thru eyes' intersection, luring the traffic lights of love's gravitation, to create a beautiful day while respires the moans as we get consumed

stop; don’t try to divine anymore some answers generated into a day... (of whatever's tomorrow) if the thoughts slipped out of the brain box but got treated as if they weren't well-packed 𓇼 murmured, out of the blue, the wind's whisper, trying to temper me, melodic… (just a little bit) with the drastic formula of a sensitive topic about the one who has a chiaroscuro intellect 𓇼 intermediary, music flows, inviting rain to laugh (without modesty), in my boundlessness, which owns numerical superiority in any adventure of the truth, while it dances with else's delusions...

slowly, my thoughts' wings, flap before landing in your senses, — [that's why you feel some thrill] how I move, it's an impulse kind that cause you to think of me, — [awol, some think you're scatty] music you listen to isn't by hap, isn't irrational directed to you, — [its aim is to get you next to me] y'know that thrill that makes you look like a scatty one... well-well, you just got how much I love you

as I did it before, but not knowingly, in your love, I surrender over again; the stars' nectary are your words and diaphane touch, your perfume; infinite miracles recite your soul and fruity passion, your dreams' sap; veils of melodies are your chic smile ripened in my thrills, night and day; a wondered vibe is your good night, and bubbly wine, your mornin' gaze; your love, held me, holds me and will still hold me, between your lips; now hug me, kiss me, take me home; home is you, in my dreams, sure thing;

the kisses i saved for you I metamorphosed 'em in poetries some of them I anchored in garlicky standard environment that's why all feel drowsy and can't jinx us with their evil eye that's why they disappear with their malice in own malignity that's why we're fallin' in love daily at same frequency of love that's why no one can guess who's this you who's loving only me

young soul, spirit buoyant, cocooned in explosive attires, — i am illustrated in feral content, chicaning in feathery words, — i'm felt no wonder my poetry is me, gesticulating, here and there, — natural that's why you recognize me when you read it; i signed it, — into you you fade in my poetic number, with… (un p’tit je ne sais quoi) i do you

the character of today has, some spring floral touch, draped lightly in a dash of smile, acidulated with a peck kiss marked in a bluish growl, to seduce the wait and the dreams to sway, lovely… in some other place, just the two of us to play

costumed in winter's attitude, the sun impressed me with some subtly minty scent foggy skin of a visible horizon, showed itself toward me as a crown's pearl of the snow bathed in some hotting speech, the air hums in subtleties to give me your eyes to dream

the night has shown some smile of yours mirroring it quietly thru a window; nobody looked at it; i moved it in a dream; dream is entitled, (once in a blue Monday); glancing at it, the moon felt proud; it loved the tactic of screening your smile;

Even now I can call your name as I pen, naked as then. You should read me just the same, shouldn't you…? Cos apart from that, how you'll feel the scent, the gaze, the touch, the breath, and the call of my words…? The free words, colored words, and words full of longing. The stuttered words, sensual words, and immoral words. Lured palpable, this is how I feel trying to send words' lips to kiss your lips, while words' fingers slip on your body… With a tender massage of words, I comfort your mind, while the moans and onomatopoeia, tickle your soul… All seasons and words' climates create an atmosphere. A song completes how to listen to me and vision me… You should read me naked, just the same as I'm writing, invaded in instinct, compressed in dreams, squeezed so… (feeling fondly your mouth on mine, your fingers slipping wildly on my body, consuming me… in passion's howl) (as i write now, naked… as then, calling out your name…)

my eyes get moving along with anything displays the night, — (a song, a pic, a story) gazing at it, looks like a bazaar of surprises, blazing many profiles, (unique, or just so-so) one of 'em seemed as if, furtive, it's stalking me; i even swore were you, but what to see it wasn't (equable), i winked at you, thinking you do the same, but wasn't time to see, cos in a wink, night flew

there's a smile at the corner of my lungs traversed by the bridge of some memory, when i assumed you breathe in my club, wallpapered into different shades of blue like the sky and sea, and my eyes' color… there is a smile that strips your shadows bored and rambled in your shrewd mind while touchy is piercing your gaze's navel explosively to get inside my gaze's navel, instructed passionately to mesmerize you there is a smile chiseled by the stars' dew and another by the gems of trees' kidneys and many others waiting to see your rays in the mood of untangling the noon's hair, tenderized in the meadow of my dreams every time, there is a smile for everything; one lookin' for you, or one lookin' for me; both can have winter's joy or summer's joy; no matter what, each smile shares a story; that's why mine kiss yours, yours kiss mine

in the town that never sleeps, full of matelots and courtesans, i lead my living since forever, [besides the other skills it has]; its gift looks to be the cover-up of everything that's looking sad; acolytes are the sun, sea, music, [besides town's fame anatomy]; in the town that never sleeps, the love replies only with love; everyone's lips wear wind's kiss and dreams are the real world; the rain's inviting you to dance in bared feet and pure as it is, arm to arm with life's thoughts, fully in its beauty to rejuvenate; in the town that never sleeps, incited in sunshine of your love, i am; i'm into something good fondled by music, sun, and sea; laid, on the fine sand, revealed, the sweetness of my body is art, the dialect of my words is honey, your patience is in love with me; in the town that never sleeps, full of matelots and courtesans, i lead my living since forever, [besides the other skills it has]

high of some 190 cm, around the perfect weight, well-defined muscle mass, and a neglectful haircut, chameleon-like eyes, and well-contoured soft lips, talking little, doing much love is… (athlete) armed with happiness, good listener, gallant, also introverted, and as steady outfit the smile with mind-to-joy attached, it's there when is called out breathing treasures of life, moments grow in beauty, like a bird or animal's spirit or of some kind of plant, offering what's been asked, overflows with charm, besides the ambiance isn't upward, isn't downward; isn't on leftward, isn't on rightward, but full of surprise in the woman chosen, to absolute is pulsing (like…)

my love for you, it doesn't sit… it grows all your lures and games are shipping me to sin you do me hunger… you do me thirst… and with all that, my kiss, it intuits your grins i have a sly gift to see you when you hate being seen my dream is my cat-sleep savored by you, — deep i'm your most coveted wish, my demons do you wildish like a fairy, i defy gravity, — i am as i'll be, there, for you doing you as do you like it, versified in my excellency

delicately, — microscopic snowflakes are dancing, — (charming my eyes) intimately, — give free rein to my imagination, decent to fall in love with you… again you, the simple man, — the moment of my silenced meditation, chiseled chic in my essence (begging…), to stay in bed and frenglishly to disassemble my sensations' labyrinth with your triggered longs

I wish You to wish yourself the Best Wishes, and any harm for you, to vanish flummoxed. I wish you fix and create only beautiful stuff, pivoting New Year on top of all that'll come. I wish… — it is the name of the place you are embodying its best effect, on you and some. 🎄 I wish You to understand You are the Wish. Not just for Christmas, but always. Yours I.🫦

today, like a climbing shrub, a big love bloomed out of me to perfume and to color life (mine, yours, and others') I have to admit, I'm beautiful just as much as I must be and brilliant, too, naturally I turn you on, I turn on others, as I'm turned on by you and by some as much as matters I transpire discreetness, enough to be felt and to not be disgusted I lie, but my lies are like a shadow you're seeking for in the torrid summers the truth of my truths is like the winter's sun, — shiny and prickly… at once I'm very skillful at some, but unskillful at others… as my fame and failures evil stuff has huge terror of my defy, which operates as antidote tool against 'em I have wishes, expectations but I don't expect 'em to be fulfilled; that gets me rid of mistakes you might be uninterested in me but as I said, out of me blooms effects just for others or some if my story vandalized your time by reading it for nothing, (reflect), episodic, you do similar w...

the gravitational attraction is at home into this translation, rippled gracefully on creek's groove of longing's quench my tales' lips, so crystalline tenderized, interpret to you, sedated, on your cheek, words' silhouette, for you to absorb 'em in each crumb of your immune system meticulously, my narrative's blue eyes with their infinite fiends, authenticate you with their acting thrill equipped in yours and like Newton's disc, that certain thing‧‧ will roll in colors and all-white intensities, like the smile of this day, (D13), and a tchin-tchin 🥂, chic 🫦, à ma façon…

you… and I… write different stuff at unpredictable intervals of time; the experiment looks like a temperamentalish naked poetry; but in very deed, — it's a sense of humor in our mood; it's life's pulse we trapped in its battle scars and broken hearts; it's our dark sky of winter's leisurely crystallized by drones' foam; it's wish's degree pulverizing oneness to affect today, our atoms' thrill; it's a hug and kiss, sent and caught, (nervelessly), (for love shrills us both);

the time is writing without to sign its pièce de résistance you will translate it by guiding it through the deck of dreams each intimacy of your thoughts will take my poetry's shape as a reader, you'll spend a few secs to get devoured and live the action in some, you'll get amazed in some, you'll recognize yourself some will make you look for more some will never turn you on cos my haply paragon was written by time in another time cos time is recited in another dream having another philosophy cos all of them will be purified by unique hygiene of a being in a being as i want it to be, as you want it to be

passionate thoughts are spidering my soul with this wild perfume of this season's day 𓇼 sybaritic, the booze of gods rains on my lips to annihilate the chaos from my mind stave 𓇼 the dreams' melodrama dances on my skin dressed up in questions and astonishment 𓇼 common senses philosophize in the language of Dassin, attached to the keyword, (à toi…)

morning sun's vapors slid romantically through my ajar window to energize my being tenderly, they whispered to feel inside me some gold sensitiveness whose howl waits for me the sky pulverized the joy transpired in the sub rosa talent of a city where once i loved to be (it smiled a memory at me anguished by an unmanageable desire with fangs and husky voice) (it unleashed into my mind the taste and wildish passion of someone never met but deeply felt) (it arched my every inhibition by caressing the neckline of my imagination a domineering untrue kiss)

i'm love's combustible 𓇼 untold dreams burn dishy inside you 𓇼 you're the anode, i'm the cathode 𓇼 every desire is compatible with two of us 𓇼 imaginations' source is swanky, is approvingly 𓇼 you're mine, i'm yours, — the only one 𓇼 you love me... i love you...

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]