The domineering esthetic title, — You. Like a page of love, — I. Hidden behind a chic chapeau, — You. Signing some pedantic love letters, — I. Tempted by temptation, — You. With orgasm on the lips… — ⟮astonishment is frenglishly clear…⟯

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

i have seasoned your dreams, — taste me °.○ whatever is wrong with you, — disappears °.○ love redoubled your thoughts, — i'm complete

I've trained myself with your didactic material, enough to know as long as I can still fantasize, I'll fantasize with you, despite I'm forced to admit that sometimes I have nightmares. Some about you are not with me, and I am with you neither. But then, I'm okay... (once I realize you're here). ⋯ You are with me like a joy bestowed by a jewel, (sparkly in the dimness, irresistible in the light). You are a whisper on my cheek or a sneaky smile. You are the sequence cited in desire of my gaze, or a graphic artist who draws my bliss wrinkles. Desirably, you are everywhere. You are the time. ⋯ (a time living with a dream in words' simpleness)

I don't feel alone at all. I have a very faithful shadow. Poem of a summer lover nested in the song I listen to..

How can you tame a woman? Hmm. You can't. She is tamed only by one who's in her mind. So... Last night, I've couldn't sleep at all. Last night I lived not in some dreams, but in contemplation of a fancy-schmancy reality accompanied by a drink, a smile, and music which subtly and delicately played my Sonata

...i'm thinking on what you're thinking while our thoughts are dancing a tango through the graphic art of a kiss of fire