Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

the rustling of your thought painted on the canvas of my soul is like a docile whisper... and I don't hide you... — my heart has deep-rooted on my lip, love... — your love... and I love you… but how much I love you[...?], you see, this poem I didn't write it yet it nests in your heart... and beats ...[I don't know to which side] but vibrates in the grip of the sun

bizarrely, like a shadow of an idea in the blue moon of your thought, I've appeared without any weight, like a stain of blood, — to be felt any day and ever-more, provoked with least a sophisticated interest, for your mind is a picture untamed and me still intimidated, I dare you to find me in the atlas of your soul