« Votre âme est un paysage choisi que vont charmants masques et bergamasques jouant du luth et dansant et quasi tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques. Tout en chantant sur le mode mineur, l’amour vainqueur et la vie opportune, ils n’ont pas l’air de croire à leur bonheur et leur chanson se mêle au clair de lune, au calme, clair de lune, triste et beau, qui fait rêver les oiseaux dans les arbres et sangloter d’extase les jets d’eau, les grands jets d’eau sveltes parmi les marbres. »
was it not my purpose to fall in love with you but to be happy, to taste your wildish passion, the magic of a miracle you are, my storyteller, the writer costumed as a soldier of the words using the polychromic vestments of illusions provoking me, confessing till I'm pouring down amazing, for I hate you so much as I miss you
his fictitious gallant being, longs for her nakedness ⋯ somehow she feels him how his mind rides to her... ⋯ feels the appetizing show prior to the start of fancy... ⋯ prior to the wink of the sun in her wetly blue... tempted ⋯ (addicted), waits for her call in his longest deeply dream
kitchen seems smaller for both of them to use it, — nerves pollutes the air … this bad episode caused tough gazes between them, like a wordless song ⋯ the context wasn't rude, but wasn't pleasant... (neither fun); as it came... has gone
I'm as sweet as a sin in your eyes, when you hold the fasting of me demurely in your soul and mind loving me till God and looking humbled for the light to find a smell of the saint of myrrh. I'm as sweet as a sin in your eyes, then, when you're waiting for dispensation, that dispensation for love without knowing if it'll come this sweetness of godly thought with the smell of books and innocence. I'm as sweet as a sin, and you… you gotta be a chocolate Jesus looking in the sinner inside you knowing that it is not a miraculous icon or healing source that could heals you of me... me............................as sweet as a sin…
I don't know what you think about me, but I say with my hand on my fountain that I'm a river. So please, beautifully, come to my riparian valley. Wash your eyes in my water, so you can see me and to see yourself how handsome you are with your timid reflection mirrored inside my stream. Look at me and let me those drops that know how to dance an impeccable waltz with the time, one that reinvents your face in my liquid mirror. For being a river, I ask you to seat on my stones and to listen to about how and who sings to you. Walk with your dry soles in my water, as everyone to believe me, when I'm talking about how perfect is your silhouette but ignores me, cos I don't know if I really want you to swim in me, for I'm so afraid. I'm too afraid I'll stop myself from my own course. So better you taste my water, so I can flow, gently, in your body, upstream and downstream, shaking in you, and, with your will, me to become your font. I don't know what you think
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
indifferent when; how; why; even if; perhaps; because; precisely; especially; somehow; in as much as; and; anyway; where; which; as when; what; as if; by who, — on you... — i love you... i leaned my heart on you, [you...] my tireless experience
...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'm walking barefoot, through the dew of your words, of your visions seeing you smiling, — instantly, your goodness gets inside me feeling you gazing at me, — love shines on my skin my thoughts, — paradoxically, become shy and gentle sunsetter, — my emotions' climate, my essences... (can't be defined) i love… who are you... (no one knows...), yet, to satisfy any curiosity, i whisper, — (i love in a foreign language...)
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