Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

a mental imagery wings its way up to the satellite of your sky, — suspiciously, in the sky of yours it is late, — it is infernally late... yet, perceived, is a tremored whisper on my skin written with your mind it's about a cryptical story about us, — two lovers swaying smoothly together …preoccupied with nothing else