Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

your love grafted my soul with surgical accuracy of a kiss enameled with palladium's gaze of your bon-ton mannerism how could i've been predicting i'm gonna lost in poems, with you in my mind... flying unseen while i will carrying... love's torch how could i've been identifying my love for you is a flaw, a sin... which didn't fit anymore on the skin... of your dreams... how could you've been framing how this love works... nobody knows... (nor you, nor i) how could we know how it oars

when the day's completed, i give it soul, i give it light, i give it wood blue's scent i allow Clapton [do his job], so tenderly to sigh to me, — [who's… wonderful tonight] ad interim, i do nix but sip a dominant red glass, which gracious, kicks up my heels

in the sky of your dream, (cheery), — my vision’s undulations relax in comforting longings even the sky’s teeth shine in my contemporary spell, lived in the company of a few gulls winter’s flavor’s being felt itself; its temper, (the transparency), provocative tempts my sea is a deep blue one born in a time of a December, in the sky of your dream… to make you feel my love

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

with vocation I scull in your mind tempting you loving get sculled you'll invite me perpetually your thoughts sprightly are sculling me hold on, I'm coming

like any species of hydrangea, as I am, as you are, as we are be it white, pink, yellow, green, purple, blue, the pH is sublime like a smile on the lips of time with any color's ascetic perfume it is me, — it is you, — it is us, a🎸riff in the painting of love

I'm gonna be home for the holidays. The sweet figurines of chocolate with colorful taste, the candies, and cakes moistened gallantly will aromatize the house with traditional specialties created in my agnostic language to bring the balance in contrast with sacred liqueurs of gods which have the aim to cherish this treasured day as each moment to be manifested in the fluid harmony of music with funny steps gently pirouetted in front of smiles and tender gestures adapted in the special K manner of the event.

the galaxy rotates in the rhythm of the music for an authentic mood of the dreamer you are, lost and delighted, breathing my love and will, to cut up the shield where I am with your lust; emotions felt, set the joy no matter whenever in a tender blue with a merry Christmas, baby, for love of December is adorned by your thrill wrapped in a little bit of everything traditional 🎄

What do you do at the hour when I miss you? I, culpable, I reset you sometimes… I don't cry… That isn't an option… for in sentimental moments I picture you as if you're a flower, a faultless fruit, to pick you up, to taste you, without a shame to tell you, — I love you daring pleasure. Mine…

you gazed at me, I gazed at you; instantly we've been diagnosed as the carriers of love's bacillus all symptoms accused us deeply as the lips contoured us severely with the cheeky smiles and longs everything you need, — i became; i am the lust, you, the wish-fullfiler; missin' yo' kissin' is passion's thrill

I lost my mind entirely, and yet all I have to do is to hope and to let your lyrical whispers play in my blood enough to prettify a bit the cloudy weather from outside to feel the sunshine inside me... Now, in me, it's summer. «I got the boogie-woogie right down in my very soul... at blues power..»

I'm going to seek for you through all the beasts of my hamlet and yours till I’ll get tired, and then, I'm going to take it again from the beginning. You will rummage beyond my eyes and you'll seek for me inside you like a medicament soothes a body. I will send all the wolves of my soul to catch your trace and sniff the scent that’s been anointed by my wild heart. You will send all the guards of your spirit to look for me through the place where we kissed each other for the first time and where we used pseudonyms designed nicely, to look like a confusing plastic love instead of names. Like that, you'll wander through each path, gracefully beaten up with the finesse of my steps and sculptured by stones in a delta, just enough to cheer my ankles. Then, you'll run like a mad one, howling through the valleys of my mind, and through the mountains of my senses of the woman I am, but also, through hilly hills of any story of ours that reminds you of me. Only after, when yo

Happiness can be conjugated only in the past tense of a present. Most of the time is just a drop, identically like this moment, lured in a masterpiece and a finesse prepared to be the fragrance kind from a future when your smile will be a reply tied in memories just to ask yourself when and if  have you ever loved a woman, — (and that woman being me…)

today my soul is a painter painting with intense ability the sounds of a dream that still exists somewhere and could be visualized at this moment in the mind of some who knows, i'm his girl... his first song [a tango blues]

if you're already on a path without knowing where it leads, I'm gonna murmur to your ear, — you're already in my dreams the frisson is hidden in a smile, the febrile indecency it is a tender, sweetly delectation, you're lying in my bed, you're the metaphor of my being, you dream with me

There's stuff in ourselves we don't know. Something which we'll deny even if it exists until will be too late to do anything about it. We lend a habit polished as if it's a trophy, begging for the approval of others, and withal, nobody has any clue where we are, how near or how far, which's the truth or the delusion, how's the look in our eyes when what we are seeking for it hides right where we'd never think to search for if someone wouldn't appear, miraculously, to whisper its magic and encouraging call, — “i come rain or come shine… come with me, (come…), (shine on, you… crazy diamond).”

 — Hi, honey! Sit down! My name's Janis Joplin Have you ever heard of me? — Yeah, I've heard of you — Oh, what's your name? — Eric Clapton

Characterize yourself concisely, — (could you?). Also, please pay attention to those that are asking about it. After all, nobody’s a thing that can be reduced and described in a few words, or a brief narration without any remembrance. Even the movement itself through this universe can’t be summed up in a few phrases. Yet, for remaining in this atmosphere, and supposing that you really want to know a little bit about me, I invite you to sit comfortably there where you are. Savor whatever makes you feel good till you’ll familiarize yourself with me. (cool😎) Now, let’s move further. I’m a lover of words who express and identify herself, crayoning poetic thoughts and romantic ideas wrapped creatively into chicly belles letters. Every day is a new chapter in an assisting story after having been assisted in my DNA’s aggregate for generations. (🧬) Additionally, — I’ve planned on earning money by spreading my work, doing collaborations, and receiving donations because despite that, I’m human