wild blue

How tall is the grass cultivated
by your brush on my fantasies' canvas,
[it's an enigma]

How many parties of colors got diluted
with your rave in my thoughts' water,
[it's swanky sin]

How much joy brings to your air's ankle,
when my wild blue eyes step on it,
[it's atmosphere]


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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

Can You Keep a Secret