volume one

to balance the imbalance of some days,
verify your soul volume,— one portrayed
and discreetly arranged by your heartbeat
with the temperature of your blood and
mad pressure of some detouring stories
systematized by the texture of your mind
to rise the sound speeds of my whispers
inapt of uttering, I love you I miss you...

to balance the imbalance of some days,
ain't nothin' wrong to check once more
the timbre and vibration of my feelings


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anytime of the year

lovely

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good for me

face à face

tighten up

satisfaction guaranteed

tell me something beautiful, she said, — (∂ + m) ψ

give me a reason

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