slips my words' soul on writings, too terrified not getting sickened, or as the preventive bodily cure in any random premise could it be ⋆ in any random premise could it be is for honorin' myself for what i am, in everything i live, see, and feel... – like whoever tactful human does it ⋆ if a tactful human does it nonnative, as me, who uses a wishful zeal's ink and the magic crayon which pivots dream's fire to which i belong, it's okay ⋆ dream's fire to which i belong, it's okay to may have some fake or loud reason, to may soothe or invigorate, or alike... to be like an inviting dance or music ⋆ like an inviting dance or music, i write today... (not as you know its meaning) but to explore again your kimosabè role, – my naif, do I run thru your nerves still‽

your love grafted my soul with surgical accuracy of a kiss enameled with palladium's gaze of your bon-ton mannerism ‧ how could i've been predicting i'm gonna lost in poems, with you in my mind... flying, unseen, while i will carrying... love's torch ‧ how could i've been identified if my love for you seems a flaw… a sin... which didn't fit anymore on the skin... of your dreams... ‧ how could you've been framing about how this love of ours works... nobody knows... (nor you, nor i) how could we know how it oars

ugh, you, – my incubus lover, i'm surrounded by ugly souls ⋆ through their veins flows pus, unfurling up a mephitic smell ⋆ their gazes suppurate dislike while their smiles are putrid ⋆ thank god, my flower garden reveals perfume and colors ⋆ and birds disperse their music, and your imps chase 'em away … ugh, you, the word of my word, sing to me... sing to my desires ⋆ embrace, embrace my dreams, dreams, credible and incredible ⋆ travel, travel in all my missives chronicled to you by my future ⋆ there, joviality bears my name, i'm the one who fulfills wishes ⋆ there, the light of each shadow stimulates the shadow of light …  ugh, you, – my incubus lover, word of my word, – i call you