I see things, might others can't see; I hear sounds, might others can't hear; I live in a world full of colors but some perceive me in only one tint; I love you, means my salute; The sun means my smile; The moon means my murmurs; The flora and fauna, sea, and the sky wears my name; The color of my blood and spirit orchestrates my feelings; The universe is my home; I'm a dreamer but most of all, I am Woman a Confident Woman.

dementedly, — his mouth devours her, sliding softly deep down to her intimate cliffside aphrodisiac, — his sap liquefies in her anemone exorcising, — her phobia together culminate shine giggling equally… — (love you), I love You too

impregnated in the nectar of my emotions, potion of my love so lusty, savory, yummy, hurried and imprudent, like a tiny little bee, you forgot a thought in my deeply thought wallpapered with kisses, — twice as tough

a botanical complexity, citrusy, slightly sweet, innocently, succulently, incredibly, — my scent accompanies him…

dreams materialize dreams evaporate like virga in controversy debates and schisms quiet written

a fugacious moment, a murmur of the purple rain… and us… — amorously… dancing…

I anchored my dream in the garden of your soul flexible, your heart sloped its pulse to mine ebullient, our blood begun ce petit quelque chose the flirty poem was spread fulfilling in our longing

your murmur, — pandemic kiss your tongue, — a savant slipping deepen arousing me… easy

that day which led into that tomorrow and that cold sweat on my skin and those nerves with a profound disgust for you disappeared, abandoning me, metamorphosed me into a lonely wolf, a wolf carrying just sad emotions and with all its hope in hell, — [period]

i'm rather a moonbeam's spirit writing verses on a ludic page guided by a fragility phonation, i'm unchained to stir up dreams i'm a star fell from sky's shelter, an exiled voice gurgling in yours higher, i'm any inner music's piece, (the score of time) to shine on i'm personifying all of my lovin', i am the scent you are attired... [i am...], [i am the dance…], the dance you dance… coquet…

it is a pain inside me that I must hide deep cos outside, there, somewhere, some wolves, if they could feel me howling of suffering, would eat me alive; a reason for pretending everything is fine, and flattering them just to let me be but without letting them end out of my sight

furtive, your sleep, sneaked in my bed kissing my eyes, (to dream with you) and I feel and burn and I hear and live and I see I'm predestined to love you me, docile like a tigress, you, epidemic, me, phased, you, make‧me‧feel‧so‧good

tonight, I'm gonna put you on my lips letting your mouth talk with mine… [love stories] your tongue will be a hyper pen active implied firmly in my physic's geometry, [full of silky sap] conjugated at feminine, my heartbeats will fill your deep dreams… [exactly as I love you]

I'm thinking about your eyes and the night it pampers them with a kiss I'm thinking about your smile and your furtive smile makes my day a poetry a fall of flowers thrives in me luring like Dona-Aurora's scent to spread out love's sound hmm... adore how you feel me

my feelings are captured in some micro fictions' instrument the music from the background renders a so ravishing passage luring me in a psychic transit just as the wind plays with my hair just as the sun kisses my cheeks just as the stars shine in my eyes just as the moon hugs me but when music's gonna stop, could you intuit how orphan would be stories' vocabulary and where the feelings will dawdle

comforted in your maverick thoughts my emotions transpire desire my pheromones sprout inside you an impregnated passion all the love of mine is on your lips, — charmed, you touch yourself, — instantly in our feverish nest, we meet

aesthetic of his dream, — I am the epicenter of longings, — our unconsciously love each tremor, each shiver, — sweet debauchery of our being the moon, the sun, — we are, —  a day, a night, — damnation torch // flame, — what a curse……

breezy challis, —  versatile demons silky… velvety… — his sourced joy… in my imagination embroidered

hard liquor, — hesitant waft… a kiss surprised in appearance like a comforting guillotine

I've never gone from the place I loved you. Actually, since then, I sculpt you in heretic poems with air and without air in my lungs. Like a cylinder, my sentiments rolled and rolls [still] for being materialized in my written and unwritten desires. I've never gone from the place I loved you. I feel you in my head, shoulders, knees, and toes. Would you like it to be true? I mean, to call you back again?

the fissure identified between us has lust property … a greedy desire conjugated free … going along with a smile

not insipid, inodorous, insoluble not without a face or a physic not black, not white not between not without identity, not an entity not intangible or indecipherable not with phobias, not with chaos but just in an aptitude of ecstasy led from nowhere to everywhere in visions from a paradise i'm in with hallucinogenics inclinations