my body, — a rich field fertile, exquisite; my bosoms, — succulent ripened fruits; my abdomen, — a flora and fauna concept; my posterior, — the moon and sun paired; everything in me emits a fruitful sensory metamorphosed in poetic languages and the intensity of someone's song... affably like a rainy day lover, like me, as if i'd be... as if i'd be rays of a curiosity slipping slyly in the palms of yours; I, to be guided gently in your archive with some splitty thoughts, lollygagging, and waiting, to carry them up

I know that intentionally, you made me forget my grammar by coming with the recipe for only one medication, — Love! And the problem with the warning scheme was simple... — both, the cure and adverse reactions offered wings to travel thru the air of fantasy, enough to find some beautiful visions and to make me reborn in your whispers when you carry me on your mind, as if I'd be a little girl in the poetry's drugstore not the kind of cool town woman who takes out your breath and does nice work if you can get it, my jazzy in your blood.

the atmosphere of my soul is to listen to those who sing about you… [❝ if there's anything that you want if there's anything that you're missing if there's anything that you need ❞], — you, — wild love, sweet Babylon  

[hush], it's the name of the longing [the ice cream man], it's the diminutive [dirty little secret], it's the dream's title [alligator], it's the protagonist lips will interpret, [when you touch me], caring to not miss [elements and things] choreography will perform something... [what I've known for a very long time] other characters are the stuff that will be fireworks and sweet hysteria, in me while you, amused, will ask yourself, — [what was fact, what was dream...]

mesmeric sparks of stellar dust fly all over whenever you smile making me want to be with you