I am trained to remember even now some clouds in some sable tempers, bringing from nowhere, out of the blue, a frightening rainfall I tend to feel their drops' corpulence under my soles still, counting my steps and lauding my team's equipment, overly It's like I'm absorbed in their ripples, that sends you to help yourself to me, if you have those goals, enough to win when you step on the handball court As an athlete, I'm trained to remember I was born to be a champion. So I am.

when i want love, my lungs hear my wish letting a song be, — [your hands on my dreaming heart]; in between, another song prepares your lips on my lips to push me to the stars [to moan... with mad lust]; adjusted by the light of your eyes, i'm kissed and wrapped in poetry's empire [for love is what it is], — king of your heart and queen of my heart where i call you and you call me anytime [at the hour of the abstract art];

it is the sly hour with the story of your smile, smile with which you simulate your absence absence that welded in you, my presence, presence that seems to start daily with a new foreplay for testing your balance balance placed between loving and forgetting enough to pollinate your eardrums eardrums that hear me buzzing tenderly, like a honey-bee; catty, like the story of your smile

your eyes, lips, face, body, hands, feet, hair, seem cabalistic as if it's a sacred will, you to be sculpted in my mind every day, over again … confident, I sowed on you a smile dreamily and equally temptingly, like a strange color blue, chiseled to rend you ample, all of my graph