Note — This page acts like a vitamin. It's essential but not for all. Please pay meticulous attention to dosage.
Contains — Bohemian Whispers and a persistent Poetic Frisson. Comes with Coco.

no medicine like blues

Unblemished, I let my smile roving
on the alley of the metaphors.

Metaphors which, once, peopled
one's shadow full of sensations.

Sensations tamed and boosted
with an implausible profile pic.

Pic with the parts of its aspects
lost in nothingness or joyfulness.

Joyfulness with moving feelings,
and thoughts wondering… why's‽

Why is late yet early, and why is
far yet closely, on poets' boulevard.

Boulevard accompanied by craves,
gesticulating longingly, the passion.

Passion of the nomad me and others,
fermenting loves on metaphors' alley.

Alley with paths to light and dreams,
like a switch at the call of the love. 

Love moaning,  — (let only music cry),
(there is no medicine like the blues).

πŸ“–

mille fois

i am the sky of the skies above all the skies, bearing the sun of the sun of all the suns, and the moon of the moon of all the moons i am the world of the worlds of all the worlds, bearing the star of the stars of all the stars, and the dream of the dream of all the dreams i am the wish of the wish of all the wishes, bearing the night of the night of all the nights, and the day of the days of all the days i am the love of the love of all the loves, bearing the color of the colors of all the colors, and the joy of the joys of all the joys i am the very best of the best of all the best, for i am the i of myself of all the i of the selves of i, crΓ¨me de la crΓ¨me of all the crΓ¨me de la crΓ¨me (je suis mille fois un trait distinctif  traduite), while a thousand times is not enough for what i am for any sky, any world, any wish, any love, inculcated
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somebody new

methodically domesticated, my smile hides inside yours as a brief phase of passion, fed by somebody new that's posting on music platforms, letting us slip into each other, ingesting us bit by bit, while we're trying not to crush love or correct it with our longing • methodically domesticated, yet, timidly, aching for a kiss, it's a verse in the waiting area of dreams that make us look like a toy, gently manipulated by thoughts without antidote for some sentiments, camped in our lustful gazes, victimized like emigrants toward nowhere • methodically domesticated, we're like an exhibited tableau where some look at it with envy, and others with admiration, but we don't care because we know we're safe in a poetic frisson of my smile hidden inside yours as a brief phase of passion, fed by that something new
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there it is

there it is your longing, — it's written deeply on my skin with lust's igniting ink kept in your mouth's container; the nibs, — your lips have harvested radiant thrills planted fluently by my sighs in any intense apogee; our love seduced the music to listen to us, — you and I are an inciting icon mirrored in all universe;
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shangri-la

It's a shangri-la inside me… Songs played on the radio are my coffee companions . The sun's percussion tools are flavoring the ambiance , while the sky recites my lines. The sea , moved by my words, purifies today's air as deeply as it has done lately, and ever. Ecstasy found me meditating , with my gaze's navel tilted to passion's navel of a loved one. All smell of milky chocolate , salty caramel , and pistachio , unbosom who thinks of me...
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check it out

…rough noises in my dreams, stirs restlessness in your soul; i check on you… you're fine 𓇼𓇼𓇼 (check it out), each day's moment, seems to be like a comic illustration, personalized through thoughts; ‧ thoughts attached to at least a mesmerizing song, exactly as the love's mood accepts its own ego; ‧ own ego has evil one too, who wants to be amused without justifying itself to no one, but on contrary; ‧ contrary to one, it'll be another, who's fully exposed and terrified by the fire of stress in a way amnesic;
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s/he

The universe began to blossom, fed chaotic by a bunch of moods and conceptions full of passion. 𓇼 Full of passion is the poetry, airing its essence in the cadence of the midnight salute of stars. 𓇼 In mind's culpability of someone, the name of who we're thinking, it's replaced with the pronoun, s/he. 𓇼 Inspired, their actions get wildly. And black is beautiful to cook it up, in thoughts bloomed out of joy.
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@ home │ life + you

his galaxy abounds with inspiration and pours love... and melancholy, — right there up above, spinning on the ray of a star, I feel I am… — seduced I'm drawn by him in a poem I'm the flower of his dreams well-mannered by the spirit of his ink
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genius

on this very day, I stopped in a hurry between the verses of the sky, domesticated by the poetry you are ‧ and I sang in the major key, coupled at flowers' jubilee in nectar's tinge, sufficiently to feel you as if you'd be ‧ a veiled genius, the seductive Kolibri
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from head to toe

Tα΅’DʳᡉᡃᡐAα΅‡α΅’α΅˜α΅—Yα΅’α΅˜‧‧‧ I put on me something explosively  opting to get attired with you… from head to toe…
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reflections of the story I am

same date, same month, same hour, different year exploring deeply the reflections of the story I am while other new chapters like many myriad others are waiting happily to be sublimely explored and invoked at the category of wonder with pleasure using some joyfulness & the visionary innocence of my spirit balanced delightfully at life's power in the abundance of love to my subtly delectation tchin-tchin Γ  la α΅α΄Όα΅α΄ΌπŸ₯‚
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