lovin' you

the summer night sprinkles lavishly sugar dust
on the spikes of your fantasies so rare ripened
in the oven of my lust to make them ambrosial

i can feel the shining rustle from their soles until
beyond the sweetness' sphere of the connection
worn in a golden chariot of our multiple miracles

and you bathe with me in the season of the peach
out of the time's womb [while me, i'm lovin' you]


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anytime of the year

lovely

you can't run

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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