I don't give bits of advice. I do confessions. Abstrusely gracious ones. Accordingly, I'm divulging, like this, some circumstances that happened once upon a time. Some of them have been succeeded to be managed, some, comme ci, comme ça, some, not at all. The important aspect I wanna mention is that everything I write is shaped with the vision's elegance. Metaphors and personifications are at home. Music loves to be my ally. And because of ⋯ «what if», ⋯ the portal gets open. I walk in any dimension I want to be, using a touching accent, — friendly, aggressively, or both. Suddenly, the crumb of the truth gets lost through some fancy-schmancy thoughts. I'm sensitized by a susurrus in its trying to guide my senses. Sometimes they're fluidized, sometimes they're opposing. Due to these, the reader can sometimes read between the lines or is led where his mood take him. I don't give bits of advice. My words love to be attired in the sensual dimensions. Adore to be ...

instead to love me, you adore to dream of me... [...i'm your sleepless nights] ⋯ quietly, my mind's nails are scratching your soul's wound, 24-7, — my name's your blood type ⋯ your imbecile thoughts rove on my emotions' skin, — you haven't chance to cure ⋯ ...the night's fine ankle, shows itself at the same hour, bringing romance scent ⋯ ...i rouse you suavely, — don't speculate anything, — i'm 404 love, – your risk ⋯ i'm sparks, – [in your wants], [i'm the smile, – framed on your lips], — [i'm your wet whisper] ⋯ spoke from shelves, a book, with no kryptonite but charms invoked with, — [tales' spell]

in an old castle... (i live), — my room is lit with fairy tales; look closely and you'll gonna see it in the side of twilight wing ▫▫▫ since i prefer not show myself, people keep thinking i'm a witch; no one has any faith in me, yet, i persist on fulfilling their dreams ▫▫▫ i am the daughter of the stars, i shine on every sky of everybody's souls; i speak in dialect of hopes, my voice is painted in velvety accent of love ▫▫▫ i wear most shiny vestments, sophisticated powdered... in warm and sweeten tints; saw by some, some counterfeited 'em to use 'em as costume of Halloween ▫▫▫ in an old castle, (not where i live), but where people aim for the heart of one i'm not

Have you heard the news? It rains! It rains with curses toward the sky, It rains with war toward the angels. It rains with reason, and no reason, scary, and toxic, and verbal abuse. Have you heard the news? It's fury! Fury, and old and new and blended with undefined labyrinthine rigors. And motivated, and not motivated. Fury of some toward of other ones. Have you heard the news? It's love! Love that dies multiple times a day. Love attired in deep hate and agony. Love that's desperate and famished in women's, men and children eyes. Have you heard the news? I did. I do. I watch perplexed at any TV channels. I see an angry one yelling to others, while deities' rays light up in darkness with aim to shield a realm from monsters. Have you heard the news? It's about people... every kind of people.

i love... (without disturbing you), i love... facile... (in music's secrecy), thinking myself, — (maybe it's your pleasure of being loved.... like this...) ⋯ [a bizarre dream that sways into my astral skepticism] ‧ i love... (surrounded by the dreamers), i love... (in a late bloomers' field), thinking myself, — ⋯ (but if you are... a fragile kind, who did itself a lair...) into my mind [as if it's there, your medication, and your dose, my constellation] ‧ i love... (without to beg attention), i love... (into my thought's thought side), thinking myself, — ⋯ (but cos you're dreaming, you will accuse some apathetic aberrations...‽) [whose medication is in whose shows, whose skepticism is in whose dose...‽]

...an unmistakable scent is breathing my thought right from the first sing of a flamboyant rooster; ⋯ it is autumn's copper win-o in an aired fruity honey tint winded in smoky pastrami, lurking slyly at my window; ⋯ gifted by a heartquake, my eyes got wide open and my mouth salivated in childhood memories; ⋯ instantly seduced, i'm urged to take a walk to the fair, to savor the season's treats and do a new, indelible day; ⋯ inviting, life plays with me, feeding myself with p'tit joys to chase away daily issues into nowhere, into no mean;

i placed on my lips the hate color ▫ on my skin, i placed the putrefy scent ▫ i opted not to talk but to curse ▫ i exposed myself in most nasty stand ▫▫▫ i ate garlic, beans cabbage and raisins ▫ my breath didn't smell of tonic and mint scent ▫ i've laughed and farted offensively naughty ▫ i tried everything just to spread repel ▫▫▫ and love didn't run, but quite the reverse ▫ it has been happy to live in my evilly evilness ▫ it enjoyed itself, finding i am in bigger shit than it was ▫ got conquered when it saw i'm not flawless at all ▫▫▫ so what you and i already know, at love's ears, the woman in me murmured some famous quotes ▫▫▫ “love me at my worst cos at my best, everybody can”

my longing for you has hemorrhage; it bleeds with love to abort soul's pain; feelings are ghosts through the night; sun and joy take me in a forgotten realm; rest of me comports natural for a fall's day; [i murmured sweetly for dawn's dream] [...its crystalline dew kissed my morning] [i woke up, smiling]

The sun attacked my windows. Has own fancy to see what I do, — if in some way I still miss you, or my feelings got lost a while ago. ▫▫▫ It's a joy's room all over my head with the scent of life's bouquet. I access it, at intervals, a little bit, as if I'd have with it a chouette. ▫▫▫ Its music borders me modestly. Its lips are overlapping with mine. The red kiss, not old, not young, has a rich taste of a playful wine. ▫▫▫ If the sun has noticed any answer, or its scintillas sent you a frisson, if my fiction operated on you madly, stop checking yourself... just enjoy.

i am the one who has the diploma in not to be an option to nobody ▫▫▫ i graduated discipline of being authentic chic and, — a bizarre laconic ▫▫▫ on the brevet is written, — i'm not an easy friend on the contrary ▫▫▫ i'm qualified to qualify you to be, and lost and found, using chicaneries and the fiasco's rhymes ▫▫▫ some grin, some laugh to hide their failure, — and that's tacitly pitiable but also very typical ▫▫▫ i listened to, — ⟮accidental...⟯ at banal coffee time, the whispers of the life

...the present day came equipped in the day of yesterday, as if it's gotten back for more, to perform in you, — [you...], [my naughty dream installed at the sun's extremities] ▫▫▫ furtively, i looked at it, puzzling itself in its own love, embellished with the beads of the moments, lived at the neck of thoughts, while it studied amour's ABCs, [and...], [and timidly, the present day has stolen me a smile] ▫▫▫ in a flash, happiness wings grew gently from my soul in my chest; the insanity of impatience began to waltz; emotions knew they're translated by no other than you, [all in all…] [all in all, romance language intimidates, whatever day]

i castrated the rancor of some people, applying to them without hesitation, the sensuality of flowers' tranquility, letting 'em perceive just my bouquet ▫▫▫ tempting crust and core of my smile, i tinted it with the belle spirit and soul of the words' simplicity, to nourish joy which, like a corset, belts their thighs ▫▫▫ when the sky's light is tousling beauty, my eyes linger on its savory message, – life, robed in the attire of poets in love has the calling to never let you down

the morning ran emotionally wild, and me, i've had a mood to whistle, probably because of the pipe dream that ended with... passionate kisses ▫▫▫ the midday, to stay awhile longer, it wished for some naughty break, probably to smoke the sensations i live 'em when mind flies... [a bit] ▫▫▫ the night looks trained, but it isn't, once that's inside, my love reacts, like a time bomb, i blow up desire, probably because... i love you a lot

(in love), — the dawn's romances sent to beauty sleep, (the poetry), which I composed it… (last night) ▫▫▫ but if you'll feel some thirst for it, sip its whispers spiced in passion and decanted in my inviting verve ▫▫▫ if it tends not to catch the message, let your heart roll the dice, to find poetry's idyllic sculpture twinkling ▫▫▫ it's chiseled with the desire's breeze, and satinized in the sea's pigment at the hour of our vulnerabilities…

the longing's light is on, — about an hour will let me chill out; the mental pictures urge, — i'm faced with all you'll do to me; frissons and butterflies rouse, — my eyes utter what my mouth can't; in love with the present, — the moment lives me, i live it, too; your joy was to please me, — nightmares are fond memories; orgasm tacit in unison, — you smile, i smile, — sleep tight; ⟮my un p'tit je ne sais quoi is lured to the poetic Stockholmsvy⟯ trick

you metamorphosed the velvety morning rain, and slipped smoothly at my bedroom window, — [a place very intimate] ▫▫▫ an aggressive sun's beam has surrounded you, making you evaporate, — i woke up... moistened... [the dream knew... why]

to empty out my day-long tension, furtively, one of your piano fingers, gives care to my moans' physique, crayoning a work of art on my lips ▫▫▫ carnal, your tune unveils my body, laid to be explored, to be updated, in your cookies, with your crushes, [is in the mood for player's sound]

like a waterproof lipstick, i'm carried on your dreams' lips... everywhere... i'm exploding with savor, — i'm the marvel alchemy you long for... and my love for you is chic... sits tight hidden in plain sight... everybody sees it... but, — nobody knows what or who you are... not even you, the mystic one who hums my name each day and night so... who's the liar... what's the lie, — the love... or what i hide...

my ears breathe your whispers my soul talks in your heartbeat dialect my mouth listens to your eyes' sound ▫▫▫ in a flash, my mood blooms, diffusing, — [mixed emotions] ▫▫▫ i'm uttered, i'm smelled, i'm viewed, i'm lived, — [everywhere] ▫▫▫ inside, outside, carried, by you, — [disparate madness] ▫▫▫ dreamt, waited, unforgettable, by me, — DeepBlue‧‧‧ paradise

my lips, pressed tenderly by your lips, have generated in a flash each of our conical junctions unimpeded, desire was expressing itself, flaring me with its absolute, making you leak inside me the moans, with slippery, divided tones were never missing, — have fulfilled our music-sheet

i invited discreet a mysterious dreamer i philosophized about ideal and fiction i felt suddenly a gentle tactile contact  i fell in love with a flawlessness i suspected such one doesn't exist who's able to love you like that… and… [mysterious] and… [dreamer]

you, — passionately gazing invoking me quiet you, — starved after my thoughts' continent you, — negotiated longing, owning merciful tenderness you, — choreographing abysmally my best self you, — love me like nobody else

moon's lusts swarmed (on beggars' lane) it wanted to be loved, — (it succeeded...) sniffed only a good lovin' (in the morning) since then, got deepened (in my dreams' maze)

in his dream, she was a fish, (an anthropomorphic fish) her feelings were the tides, rippling on the ocean side her home looked like a shell, aquaplanet called her, Pearl how to not sink to that dream when he treats her as a queen

i'm not humble and kind at all, — why do you think i ported my sky on the translucent membrane of your eyes...? ... to force you to (dream), (dream), (dream)... ▫▫▫ beautiful memories have the skill to bandage up your soul's tegument, enough to see the microscopic light hidden ineptly at your mind's edge... ... (i'm one-of-a-kind beautiful and one-of-a-kind memory) ... (macroscopically) ▫▫▫ can you filter through a rusty sieve the best days out of a week...(?) (i'm curious to see the look on your smile while you try doing it...), (doing the effort to groove me in your sureness) ▫▫▫ with the serenity of the sea, fix your eyes on my eyes captivated by your fantasies (hmmm, — do you still cherish what you see...) ▫▫▫ your diabolic mind created a journey, — this journey pushes someone else's thoughts to some possible destinations for healing the deceitful promises of tomorrow (to force you to wake up), (wake up), (wake up) ... (in my beautiful world) ▫▫▫ the product...

your longing mushroomed in the forest of my thoughts, giving some frissons, pushing me to lose control like in telenovelas... ‧‧‧‧ (desire of breathing love demands extravagance) • (your lips breathe my bloody lips) • (the crazy love's breeze reaches out everywhere) • (your smile wants driving me crazy) (how much you want from me, baby?) • i searched for me in your thoughts, — i didn't find myself in there… at all

every chance I get i look for you in memories ⋆ the thoughts' lips burn‥ demanding to be kissed... ⋆ next to memories lay lust‥ wants the entire fairy tale ⋆ words get suffocate‥ grope in longing's wounds ⋆ how many seasons expired while hopes lost their shine ⋆ like a coup de foudre questions jet into my mind ⋆ i feel the color of your eyes smiling at me, clandestine ⋆ your dreams roll down here, where the talk doesn't exist ⋆ the poetry constructs you as it wants‥ (lovin' you‥)

do not disturb... still, — love has been on ATI, supervised and very well cared each of its breath was controlled, — every part of its body, likewise its blood's microns were oxygenated too, — has been in good hands... life's lights have yelled invoked love's holiness traumatized the lethargy chased away darkness revived it, reviving me...

love is the innocent student... pain is the lesson... — a frightful weapon, it's human thought... — you see, — Albion friend... — your name floods my brain deeply... it has got to the intimated point where the longs shine a light... — (a smile 'tween some "lessons"), (you know i always win...), — i conquered even you... didn't i... — not in vain the joy tickles you... these days i loved myself only... — my being needed combustible... (tones...) (to love you better...) (to want you more...) i know you waited very, (again) to hear me saying, — (i miss you...) (while i miss you still)

slips my words' soul on writings, too terrified not getting sickened, or as the preventive bodily cure in any random premise could it be ⋆ in any random premise could it be is for honorin' myself for what i am, in everything i live, see, and feel... – like whoever tactful human does it ⋆ if a tactful human does it nonnative, as me, who uses a wishful zeal's ink and the magic crayon which pivots dream's fire to which i belong, it's okay ⋆ dream's fire to which i belong, it's okay to may have some fake or loud reason, to may soothe or invigorate, or alike... to be like an inviting dance or music ⋆ like an inviting dance or music, i write today... (not as you know its meaning) but to explore again your kimosabè role, – my naif, do I run thru your nerves still‽

your love grafted my soul with surgical accuracy of a kiss enameled with palladium's gaze of your bon-ton mannerism how could i've been predicting i'm gonna lost in poems, with you in my mind... flying unseen while i will carrying... love's torch how could i've been identifying my love for you is a flaw, a sin... which didn't fit anymore on the skin... of your dreams... how could you've been framing how this love works... nobody knows... (nor you, nor i) how could we know how it oars

ugh, you, – my incubus lover, i'm surrounded by ugly souls ⋆ through their veins flows pus, unfurling up a mephitic smell ⋆ their gazes suppurate dislike while their smiles are putrid ⋆ thank god, my flower garden reveals perfume and colors ⋆ and birds disperse their music, and your imps chase 'em away … ugh, you, the word of my word, sing to me... sing to my desires ⋆ embrace, embrace my dreams, dreams, credible and incredible ⋆ travel, travel in all my missives chronicled to you by my future ⋆ there, joviality bears my name, i'm the one who fulfills wishes ⋆ there, the light of each shadow stimulates the shadow of light …  ugh, you, – my incubus lover, word of my word, – i call you

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 the contrast in your brain; no problem... you've got the Bard, you're not a tricker, you are stupid. You chose to give up on yourself, at anything that makes you human; it doesn't matter anymore; you lost your own connection with self-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 some answers anymore, 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 ▫ 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 ▫ 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 on 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 say you're scatty] music you listen to isn't faux pas, 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 through 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 became 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 few memories 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]

height ...fulfilled grace, weight, clinically... perfect, muscle mass... explicit, haircut, — neglectfully, eyes, chameleon-like, lips ...well-contoured, — talks little, does much (a corsair in poet's suit) ⋯ wildly armed with optimism, a stellar listener wrapped in a gallant attitude, similarly introverted, shows a smile, as steady outfit  with mind-to-joy attached, — is there when is called out ⋯ breathes life's treasures while actions grow in beauty like a bird or animal's spirit, or of a pretty much plant, offering what's been asked, overflowing with charm, besides the ambiance ⋯ isn't upward, isn't downward; isn't on leftward, isn't on rightward, but ⋯ full of surprises in the woman chosen explodes in absolute (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've a sly gift of seeing 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 there for you, as i'll be ⋯ 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 are writing different stuff at unpredictable intervals of time; the experiment looks like a temperamentalish naked poetry; on the other hand, in very deed,  hunts a humor's  sense that  dissects  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 a wish 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...