Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi · Bohème · Poetic Allusions · Poetic Essences · Artistic Expressions · An Ekphrastic Approach · Intuitive · Crayoning the World Inside Me · A Beauty in Chaos · Thereby Feel Free · Explore Me
into their playground love's atmosphere, she's abandoned herself unreservedly, (her sensuality spills passion) imprints of his lips shine on her smile while his lungs, lustily, scan her Venus, (anointed in her absolute) beauty wears the name of his climax… cryptic touches, delights, and suspires, — (a bohème time capsule into the wild)
In the earthly bit of the day, I dress up in the sky's scent. The sun's rays, like beads, adorn my neck. The accessories of my ears are grounds internet's playlist. On my lips, velvety and soft, reflect the smile's tint. Listening to my thoughts, the wind creates my hairstyle. The sea is my mirror while my eyes hum time's beauty. Out of nowhere, playfully, a thought climbs in my mind. I salute the life's mood and continue our chit-chat. Maybe an eye of my soul cries, but surely, the other smiles. If I feel confused I'll be fixed. Nothing happens randomly. Life is stuffed with anything... I breathe it. It breathes me.
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 ⋯ 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...
You made me look different in all the pictures taken not with the camera but with your mind My absence is only felt without where or when why or how, without who or punctuation signs Yet I've to admit that ellipses are accepted and glyph's variant of a bullet point indicates to me as being much stronger now in broken places Your attitude sent me deep in the blues, again… All memories captured erstwhile shine wildish urging me to pick up the pieces [KᵉᵉᵖOⁿKᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍOⁿ]
In the presence of the present, I'm afraid you're afraid I'm afraid that I love you‥ (and that's true). I love you using the lips of those that convert each melody in a chouette, (hard-rock-lover). So I hope you will intend to order strawberries, whipped cream and chocolate for some chills & fever. The store is on the dreams' alley, next to tempting whispers' corner at the parterre of longing, (open).
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]
whisper my name write my mirage live 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 live you
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).
in which of your positions, I'm a disaster or a miracle… which of my hemisphere grows your pulse… 🫦 does it make you react as if I'm bad for you, baby… so bad that only your lungs are able to remind you… reminds you, you love much to breathe my atmosphere
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