help yourself to me

by Claudia
I am trained to remember even today
about some clouds in silvery tempers,
brought from nowhere to bring still,
out of the blue, a frightening rainfall
▫
I tend to feel the drops' corpulence
and their moisture under my soles still,
counting my steps and fluid feints
while it's lauding my team's equipment
▫
It's like I'm absorbed in the whispers
that sends you to help yourself to me,
if you have those goals enough to win
when you step onto my handball court
▫
As an athlete, I'm trained to notify you,
I was born to be a champion. So I am.

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πŸ“–πŸ€πŸŒΏ

here i am

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here I am... (the ink is still wet…) — the rains of your lust fall relentless, pathing through the noise of your psyche, anesthetized and seduced by the rays of my moon, exposed and mesmerized through the chimes of stars, enough to poison your blood with its crystallized honey for invoking me under the pen name, — I Am A Vampire — now, I possess the perfect excuse to metamorphose you... under my spell
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the domineering esthetic title, — You. like a page of love, — I. hidden behind a chic chapeau, — You. signing some pedantic love letters, — I. lured by temptation, — You. with orgasm on the lips… — the astonishment is frenglishly clear. it utters your emotion while your caring fondles me. it guides you with my dream until our mouths meet. it hears my calling steps in the gaze of your begs. title to stay so... page to come so... the errors are sedated.
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Dear dizzy fall day from this time of the year, even if it seems to be the season of the witch, I dunno what kind of strategy are you trying. To be accurate, I didn't imagine our dating be so grayish and cold and without your golden and brassy and cuddled and warm sunshades. Fortunately, I was inspired to put on me some perfume with sprightly notes, enough for avoiding any wrong situation, also to reinvent another story, with each part of your sun, inclined on me, to look shinier. Guess that could be one of your deep excuses, in your hurry to see me, and is accepted. Yet, do whatever's necessary to fix up your mood. Even implore a competent one for a prescription… — P.S. — (Do it AΛ’SᡒᡒⁿAΛ’Pᡒ˒˒ⁱᡇˑᡉ). Winter knocks.
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Join my atmosphere. My mood denotes Bohemian Whispers and a persistent Poetic Frisson. The dosage comes with Coco. 🌿