the limits

you adjusted my body
in some breeze,
felt and seen waltzing
through the seas,
as well as my scent,
designed
in a night-blooming beauty,
to bring to you
each illustrated desire,
intimated chic,
in the navy tints of the sky
you prognosticated,
as if it was given to me
to write to you
with the holy visions' ink
in the limits of your wills,
grafted beyond a last sunset,
a last goodbye,
a mystique clichΓ©,
as nothing of what we did
to not disappear, [ever]

πŸ“–

mille fois

universe

Say

one that I want

ain't stopping

hold on

salut

on repeat

thousand love songs