take a sip of a rosy wine made with happy grapes in a hotly autumn one, intentionally to infiltrate in your blood and nervures, fairly to exhaust your mind with the photosynthesis of my exquisite essence, you to shine phenomenally thru my yellow moon's rays

you adjusted my body in some breeze, felt and seen waltzing through the seas, as well as my scent, designed in a night-blooming beauty, to bring to you each illustrated desire, intimated chic, in the navy tints of the sky you prognosticated, as if it was given to me to write to you with the holy visions' ink in the limits of your wills, grafted beyond a last sunset, a last goodbye, a mystique cliché, as nothing of what we did to not disappear, [ever]

here & now, — [an-alluring-dream] the breath, — [nuance-of-raspberry] aroused, — [the-kiss-is-justified...] ludic, [as-if-my-thought-is-in-yours] at the hour [i-look-at-you-right-now] cheered with... [Iko-Iko essence]

❝ Do you gather flowers for me moving softly through the trees with the scent against your arms? Long ago I knew your charms as I walk through the purple hills  of soon-forgotten, know  my heart was in your hand, all my heart is in your hand. Do your lips still call my name? Would your mouth still taste the same? There I learned the sweetest words, — Ooh, what the price of mercy, yeah! Though I steal all across the years the memory lingers on with my heart in your hand, all my heart is in your hand. Should I fall beside the road everlasting wandering soul and the memory sublime? All my, my heart was there, yeah! As I walk through the purple hills of long ago I know my heart was in your hand, my heart is in your hand. Ooh, all my heart, all my heart... ❞

we will go to meet today at this hour in this place; your heart will beat fast without knowing to react seeing the look of my joy possessing your ecstasy  in my sculpted silhouette, provocateur gesticulating [oooo…ahhh…] frissons, like no other human being; the place is set discreetly, enough we do not beware when we touch ourselves with complete naturalness in love's décor of passion

oh, you little one, — you look as if you'd been in the house of wolves composed or else, why, adequately, to play intimate strategies, just to occupy my thought with yours or both minds to be equally preoccupied to taste the whispers of one to the other or both mouths be guided by the magic drops of a soundless honey into the cosmic reveries or else why love is sculpted into the stars by the stars exactly as I'm here you're there, so-so passionately, dreaming

the scent of the night is contoured in the shape of your soul and mine; is like a naive art painted in an imaginably wild style grounded in a world which, i don't know if it's mine or yours but surely, it's out of a cosmically class designed all in one having as base the love and immortality should've been stars, sweet love ❝ we're made to be chasers we're made to be runners we're made to be dreamers to wonder it's all or nothing it's now or never now or never i wanna feel everything  on the contrary situate all the colors in-between let 'em burst  out [understory?¿] it's all or nothing it's now or never we were made for this we were made for this  together, —  together but it chased that some like  deal's gone the stars like yester'  it moved on 1st time we've seen  seemed on our side cause, we're made for this we were made for this we were made for this

The distance between us, it's the distance between good‧morning and good‧night. Give me the equator and I come with poles, but I don't know if you'll get faster than me or I'll get faster than you, with a new statement of intent or a new statement of distance for a new declaration of love in the metaphysics form, to tell you to tell me, surgically in English, murmuring, — I love you. Surely, — I'm gonna ask you to love me in your language, from the sun to the moon, from the early morning until midnight, even if the distance between us could reach 100 miles... or… 1000 light-years... My crazy love‧‧‧‧ good‧morning 🌞 good‧night 🌝

And comes Monday and Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, Sunday and again today, — and again I love you. Nor the time, and nor the distance doesn't change this chemistry, this endless connection between us. Nothing, absolutely nothing can pass through this prolonged and the profound longing that becomes from time to time a material, an unreal, a diaphanous, felt through the veins, making us fly... to what will come. It's today again, and again, I love you. Imaginary, put your hand on my chest and rotate it in the direction of the sun to turn my heart back in time, teaching it to beat as if it would beat in your chest, as if together could beat far and closer, softened like a snowflake. It's today again, and again I love you. Check my pulse from my wrist and count my years with yours and without ours, then paint my shoulders with the calendar of your love… Doesn't seem that's looking like the map of the world? We have the North and S