il n'y a pas d'invitation plus séduisante...... — come è fatto da una donna.............................. il n'y a pas de plus grande transformation, — come è creato da una bella storia d'amore....... et prélude a commencé.................................... anteriormente di tu conoscere, — her name...  déduit, [sweet child o' mine],[sweet love child], dans le chuchotement magique… di peccati

today my soul is a painter painting with intense ability the sounds of a dream that still exists somewhere and could be visualized at this moment in the mind of some who knows, i'm his girl... his first song [a tango blues]

something out of me looks for something out of you, somewhere in the realm of some certain kinds of dreams à la longueur d'onde de l'énergie d'amour

if you're already on a path without knowing where it leads, I'm gonna murmur to your ear, — you're already in my dreams the frisson is hidden in a smile, the febrile indecency it is a tender, sweetly delectation, you're lying in my bed, you're the metaphor of my being, you dream with me

Non, non, non, non‧‧‧, je ne regrette rien. Mais aujourd'hui, j'ai besoin de tes rêves. Je n'ai plus pas de poussière magique... – C'est une raison fondée à me demander si jamais viendra ce jour, quand tu, tu, tu vas regretter que nous ayons rencontré…

we're longing for love but we are so full of pride so damn too much pride

I'm gonna hide in a beautiful dream, wanna come over? I wanna fall asleep  sensing your smell... hold me tight...

Coffee, — some gentle caresses and a dream, that's still on my eyelashes, are trying to send me back to you... – murmuring tenderly, — oh beautiful, wake up, shine on! Be rose of the sun. Happiness waits for You. Invade it! So, I confirmed myself, blooming up, capturing the glow movement of love.

[good coffee] [smiles] [my favorite bloom] [you...] [and ice cream...] [with caramel] [to the sea...] [and the sun] [a few sonnets] [and good music] [butterflies in the stomach] [perfumed life...] good morning, Love

mornings' selfless substitute without coffee is the touch of your loving hand slipping smoothly under my moon's eyelid, just enough to escalate the finger of a moment gifted with the temper of an inimitable ambiance sweeten with rustles of my frisson, well-spiced by your daring kisses

I invented you in a dream,  but I forgot to whisper to you the direction to me.  Don't get lost. Go towards the light.  You got the power... I wait.

(don't blame on today but rather on any holly day) (don't judge me, for i can hear and talk in dialects of any demons, of fury, of sadness, of hell, of pain, of the madness, of the terrors, of sleepless hours, of the tears, of tortures, of darkness, and silences) (don't scold me, for i've felt my own blood, freezing and boiling simultaneously, or when i had and lost the pulse, gazing thru the eyes of disappointments) (don't insult me, for i know the taste of starvation, the scent of the thirst and the isolation), (do not...) wary, i propped myself on hopes' wall of a new day, i used the energy of my own agony to climb at life, i left my pain's music to guide me, accompany me, and to orchestrate with all my cicatrices, at victory there weren't any gods, weren't any saints, or devils, but people, anonymous kinds, wearing proud, suits of the indifference, cynicism, ignorance, arrogance… so, (don't blame me, don't judge me, don't scold me, do

Every time I think of you rain with continents of smiles fenced in sweetest memories Every time I think of you, tacit your shadow undresses me making me the prettiest star Every time I think of you, I pick you to be the alien of my orbit that repudiates the longing's hex

the waking, — captivating thrills, ritual, — tenderly touches, addiction, — Mediterranean drops, hypnosis, — lips touching lips, morning's beauty, — joy, the kiss of good night, — passion, love's magnetism, — night and day you, wanting me, me, wanting you

fly above the clouds and you'll be sent in a dream with the story of a kiss snuggled on the stave free your mind to be caught in a forgotten realm… there, where more than once i've been yours for a song (so incognito…), — and i am still, with/without poetic ammunition or byes but with an inviting Salut shaping castles in your air

I will turn back in time to love you as if from fragile and unknown reasons, I didn't when I could have been doing it. So please try to change nothing of what you've been. The only taste which I can't get enough, it's yours. You're my longing and the ally of my greedy lust to live happier times.

would you like a strong coffee with two tiny teaspoons of truth slathered in a sublime sonority? well-well, all you heard about me, it might not be only the truth, but just a small part of what I did/do