Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

smoothly, with some thoughts, I kissed your mild summer wine and I sank in its orbit, at once a yore playful cicatrix got cured,  as if the happiness I looked for was hidden through its chalice yet, if you feel me all around you, as if you'd breathe what I breathe, don't get brunched by yourself wait for the call of my thoughts by kissing a delicate summer wine to get you to sink in the orbit where I am

here we go again… feeling guilty as is any starved animal searching nutrients for whatever might feed the spirit quench the thirst, push loneliness and all fear away... here we go again, to french-toast with goodnight kisses ending as we started, frenglishly together, like mongrels