❝  Take bread away from me, if you wish, take air away, but do not take from me your laughter. Do not take away the rose, the flower lance that you pluck, the water that suddenly bursts forth in joy, the sudden wave of silver born in you. My struggle is harsh, and I could come back with eyes tired at times, from having seen the unchanging earth. But when your laughter enters, seeking me, i rise to the sky for it opens for me all the doors of life. My love, in the darkest hour your laughter, it opens. But if suddenly you see my blood staining the stones of the street, — laugh, because your laughter will be for my hands like a fresh sword. Next to the sea, in the autumn, your laughter must raise its foamy cascade,  while in the spring, — love. I want your laughter like the flower, I was waiting for, the blue flower, the rose of my echoing country. Laugh at the night, at the day, at the moon, laugh at the twisted streets of the island, laugh at this clumsy boy who loves you. Bu...

Here I am... (defenseless), (not naked), — right in front of your eyes. Don't stare at me. Take me in. ‧ Without shame, expose me to verbs and pronouns, adjectives, and nouns... Create me to look as if we are reciprocal possessive reflection. ‧ Manipulate the colors or the wavering lights of descriptive linguistics if it's necessary. ‧ Sneak a whisper of Neruda or of another who's nearer to the shelter of your soul... ‧ Be gentle... (remember), — I'm easily tickled and the misery isn't a part of my game. ‧ Sniff me, taste me, feel me, touch me, — arrange my attire, — capture definitively the smallest mistake. ‧ My offer is not a borrow and can't be taken back. ‧ Here I am... (defenseless), (not naked), — wondering by myself how the "love" will be used, where it will be placed, what part of me will be wrapped...‽ ‧ Could be the verb of an adjective from the noun pulverized with known pronouns, or could be you… You & I‧‧‧ cheerily mindsets bathed in ...

define love, — love is a  transferred  affection, — [touch me there], [ feel my music] touch, — but not so much

❝ because of your love i lost my sobriety; i am intoxicated by the madness of love; in this fog have become a stranger to me; i'm so drunk, i've lost the way to my house; in the garden, i see only your face from trees and blossoms; i inhale only your fragrance drunk with the ecstasy of love; i can no longer tell the difference between drunker and drink between lover and beloved... ❞

❝ When I cannot look at your face, I look at your feet. Your feet of arched bone, your hard little feet. I know that they support you and that your sweet weight rises upon them. Your waist and your breasts, the doubled purple of your nipples, the sockets of your eyes that have just flown away, your wide fruit mouth, your red tresses, my little tower. But I love your feet only because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind and upon the waters until they found me... ❞

I'm gonna point the finger at you, anyone to see who's the one who caresses me and shapes my soul with its thoughts full of grace and deeds, along with gentle touches, like the breeze of summer nights stuffed with whispers of longing and a sprightly wily contemplation, lulled through the wave of feelings, pearled words, and amusing savor in magic gifts of any gifted guitarist, with us, in a wink of riffs, avowing, I‧found‧Love‧when‧I‧found‧You

a pressing need unveils your mystery using the sinless sound of a mandolin 𓇼 it's carried by your culpable sentiment sedated and kept in your gifted heart 𓇼 it's like a riveted witchery, magnetizing my emotions to an unusual ecstasy… 𓇼 it is as if you'd pour some sugar on me

get up, you, the jewel with divine perfume; rise and reveal yourself on the fantasy paths spiced with the nightly romance, smooched with lovely intense velvety vibrations... get up and sips nectar out of a timid beam hidden between some fluffy clouds and the twinkling of the morning dawn on the soul shadow of a starry sky... get up and let yourself be kissed and seduced; (get up...), — get up, it's later than you think... you're under spell of a warm embrace in my penned poem

the faithful shadow of yours is interwoven with mine, — it's following me everywhere

i purified through myself, then i opened the window for you, love... no more knocks for not waking the neighbors... enter directly... color my world

nor even if it's the night, nor even if it's the day don't run... don't run away out of my dreams, — only there can be told what never happened but comes naturally... (to me and you...) contextual

❝ Love came and became like blood in my body. It rushed through my veins and encircled my heart. Everywhere I looked, I saw one thing. Love's name written on my limbs, on my left palm, on my forehead, on the back of my neck, on my right big toe... Oh, my friend, all that you see of me is just a shell, and the rest belongs to love... ❞

— how would you prefer it to be, (younger... older‧‧‧), (you asked) — (‧‧‧distinguished...), (i replied), its ruby of the mature raspberry must vibrate on my lips in the language of Love... — must be… in—ti—ma—te—ly… must be acting in a chronicle which rouses those kinds of emotions... to take you to take me far, far away, there… from where it comes... wrapped in the veil of a kiss... if you could feel what I'm thinking

a fire's burning smoldered between a-rouse out of a dream and another you're given in an absolute lethargy incapable of intervening for a while reputation captured appetite's sense forgetting about commandments for love came here embodied in me, you to get lost in my soul's bouquet

i love you! and not my lips say this but my eyes charged by a light what's not mine but you sent it to me... i love you! and not my lips say this but my hands agitated by a shiver what's not mine but you sent it to me... i love you! and not my lips say this but my soul lit by a fire a fire that burns since you sent it to me... so don't blame me...

full of deep desire, I let my lungs to get invaded with your perfume, while your hands whispered to me on my body the romance of poetry mixed with the unfathomable lust of the real wild child as you are tamed, waiting calmly for my love

love didn't bring to me the breakfast in bed but left me to sleep a little more having the care to program some whispers sent with the help of the wind warmed by a few rays of the sun hidden among the tiny clouds which loves to gaze at me walking gallantly through those dreams accompanied by a clink, playful and gently, like a sweet tender kiss, only to provoke me to stretch and to search your hypnotics lure, — quand tu m'appelles‧‧‧

his fictitious gallant being, longs for her nakedness ⋯ somehow she feels him how his mind rides to her... ⋯ feels the appetizing show prior to the start of fancy... ⋯ prior to the wink of the sun in her wetly blue... tempted ⋯ (addicted), waits for her call in his longest deeply dream

(my spirit) — (longs), (i miss) — (a kiss), — (it's yours), — (gone), — (fruited mind)... (to bring)... (now), (you)... (to me)... (flew)... (far but near), — (to reach)...—  (to touch)... (so sweet)... (it's you)... (a smile), — (your gaze), — (melancholy), (it seems)... — (inside), (a bit), (the happiness)... (i sip), — (slower), — (to guess), — (your thought)... (my dream)... (you, came), — (dishevelled)...

Somewhere, far away, in a hidey-hole of the world, delimited by a lake and a sea is a piece of land where a long time ago, a town has been raised. In that town is a tiny street with only one way out. On that street, at a certain number, is a house. In that house, is a room. In that room lives somebody more or less unknown but who has a few dreams surrounded by a sweetening breeze of memories that tactfully access the happiness' shape. Shape of one who, unexplainable, longs for someone never met…

It was raining   infernally ... while me and you were making love through some mansards . Through the oval-shaped windows of the sky, the clouds had been flowing in the March's . The walls of the room were agitating behind some sketches drawing with chalk . By means of our souls, all were dancing in an unseen something from a concrete world. "The rain will pour on your wings" , — you said, "And will rain with lump's ornaments on the whole globe, and through the weather" . "Doesn't matter" , — I was telling you, — " Lorelei , it rains only on my flight, with the feather...that's all". Then I rose up higher and higher without knowing in which part of the world I left my room. You've been calling me out from behind, — "Answer me, answer me... what's more beautiful...? The people...? The rain...?" It was   rainin g   infernally , a total madness of rain, while me and you  were making  through some...

You know, isn't it? You know I was conquered by you with your fascinating mind. Deep in my soul, i built daily by myself some reality in a wonderland. Out there, you'll have, as magic shipmaster of my fantasy, a place reserved forever. And I'll taste each shudder. And I'll enslave you deeply and tenderly. And you'll don't oppose. And I'll don't oppose, too, if you'll summon my psyche to connect with yours… all the way.

Do you have any idea how much I want you? Wanting to love you, it's like an extreme sport. Once, it's like skydiving, then like a marathon. Like scuba diving, then like I climb mountains. It's like I'd run and sweat through the feelings with speed on the highway of moments, having more than a hundred pulsations per second, just to cross the finish line together with you, at the same time, in the adrenaline of senses, with all moans of our bodies and kisses, while other peck kisses are for a tiny pause of respiro. Yet for all these, I have to lie, terrified because you'll forget to open the parachute or to swim, assuming it's illusory, love's fine line tween us.

Happiness can be conjugated only in the past tense of a present. Most of the time is just a drop, identically like this moment, lured in a masterpiece and a finesse prepared to be the fragrance kind from a future when your smile will be a reply tied in memories just to ask yourself when and if  have you ever loved a woman, — (and that woman being me…)

you run naked through my mind

mon amour, with you, is alternative math; I multiplied you with essences of my universe; I combined you with all kinds of thoughts; some have the taste of the sin, extracting the radical of a delightful desire found in hypotenuse of an opposite right-angled to obtain the result hidden in an idea with the base on the logarithm of feelings combined with the properties of a soft sound transformed in what has been expected, — an equation of senses which defines love's scent, anesthetizing me with an infinity of challenges hissed by a color, gently placed by you in my soul through your heavenly exponent...

  …when a painter, it breathes you in the black and white , it does this intentionally, for when someone will gaze at you to feel what it adores about you, — each methodology of any phase that hits with typical subtlety, just to can be identified on canvas the memory of a colorful laughter

❝ I have dreamed of you so much that you are no longer real. Is there still time for me to reach your breathing body, to kiss your mouth, and make your dear voice come alive again?  I have dreamed of you so much that my  grown  arms, used to be  crossed on my chest as I hugged your shadow, would perhaps not bend to the shape of your body. Faced with the real form of what has haunted me and governed me for so many days and years,  I would surely become a shadow. Or  scales of feeling . I have dreamed of you so much that surely there is no more time for me to wake up. I sleep on my feet , prey to all the forms of life and love, and you, the only one who counts for me today, is the one I can no longer touch your face and lips than touch the lips and face of some passerby. I have dreamed of you so much, and walked so much, talked so much, slept so much with your phantom , that perhaps the only thing left for me is to become a phantom among phantoms, a shad...

I'm gonna love you in a way I never loved, breathless, — you gonna love me searching for me here, there, everywhere, where you think I am, but I am not, — I'm gonna love you in my lunatic thought, through the flying of love with and without wings, — you gonna love me in your imbecility with so much tenderness as you've never loved, — (endlessly…)

Have you ever been longing for what has been not, for what might have been but it had not? Have you ever been thinking of what it could've been to have what you want to know and to feel? Have you ever got lost between present and past as if you'd know how to write but not so able to dose? Am I still in your mind, as you are on my mind exhausted to look for an easy way out...…؟?

It was only a drink, and my mind climbed on a tiny cloud to listen to your smile with the sweetest tremor of lust, murmuring... (slow an´ easy), structurally, (love´s interlude), — good night, my love‧‧‧ Bilingual, I whisper to you, — I'm here... I'm there... I'm everywhere... (I listen to you). Do the same to have a (good) day and night, alike. After all, — (happiness is a warm gun). Keep it so... here... there... everywhere I am. 

it flows my mind through my soul, — some days don't start as I want, blaming me for I've chased away the joy, even before to let it in it flows my soul through my mind versed and scintillated enough, dancing with the one who's there, — my baby, — the essential support

the morning coffee is the flavor of love ▫ sentiments are whispers inked in happiness ▫ a beam of the sun is the ingenious smile ▫ the «guilty» one is «guilty» as I am ▫ we're both exorcized with insatiable kisses ▫ kisses & hugs like usually, dreamt and stolen ▫ there's no modesty but a trenchant manner ▫ mannerly toyed in our desire's tendency ▫ each sipped savor is translated in thrill's jargon ▫ the morning coffee has always, the flavor of love

the gentle modulations of the river and sea which surround the island where I'm living have listened to your arty preached prayers the golden rays of the ground I'm stepping on transformed them into the heavenly candor vowing to me I'm not misled but only loved

 «excuse me, I am a French man and I'm afraid I don't speak very well English but... for a French man, it's very difficult to explain… anyway, I would like to make love to you... toi petite c'est sûr tu es un hit…» [sea, sex, and sun], [mon Cheri...]

…right as heaven sends you, at your turns, you love to send the rain of kisses on my lips, on my cheeks, on my eyelids ‧ (well, i got to tell you), — the rain, madly fixed by big and warm drops, wrapped me tightly in its scintillating movements ‧ deviating my thoughts' colors, it captured my soul with its beads and my mouth with muffled sighs, to feel I am… your sweet lady

[this season...] arose out of the blue, bearing its ghostly air with impregnated frosty scents, able to change the flowers' tints and shapes in its mystery, showed its revelation by trying to concoct plausible reasons for activating my lazy ass... fine adjudicated in some dreams, mixed with smoky music and bittersweet flavor of my bespoken cigarette, spiced like magic with the genial sounds of my morning coffee [this season smiled, viewing on my fantasies]

i want you never say no and to lose myself in you and to lose yourself in me in an extreme apogee... i love you, and that's okay losing me in your mind wandering, as i always do sliding in your paradise... loving you with dirty mind wanting you be not a dream feel identic feeling deep... a thought fixed on repeat

❝ Indolent darling, how I love to see the skin of your body so beautiful shimmering like silk! Upon your heavy head of hair with its acrid scents, adventurous, odorant sea with blue and brown waves, like a vessel that awakens to the morning wind, my dreamy soul sets sail for a distant sky. Your eyes where nothing is revealed of bitter or sweet are two cold jewels where are mingled iron and gold to see you walking in cadence with fine abandon. One would say is a snake that dances at the end of the staff under the weight of indolence but your child-like head sways gently to and fro like the head of a young elephant while your body stretches and leans like a slender ship that rolls from side to side and dips its yards in the sea like a stream swelled by the thaw of rumbling glaciers when the water in your mouth rises to the edge of your teeth. It seems as I drink Bohemian wine, bitter and conquering. A liquid sky that spreads stars in my heart!... ❞

Into the middle of the night, feel my closeness fabricated by my dreams inside your dreams Search for my sweet touch on your body, spiced with the woody scent of an unquenched longing rolled through my delicate wildflower's note In my secret mind's sky, you are the shining light, why do you think that our thoughts play love…

surround me with your love when the whispers of nights reconcile the silence felt in the meditation; when the longing behaves like a happy dreamer, bringing new and appealing desires, for renaming the deepest calls for each joy that melts in memories and thrills kept so well in an untold witchery

The questions have wakened you up, and yet, your dreams kept you captured in the archive of your longings... [me]. The reality is in the system of your mind , tempered with a thousand kisses deep, individualized in my secret life and yours. Despite any anguish that we came thru, we succeeded in bringing colors to our life by letting any moment find the cadence . ( l'amour fou ...) The reality is in the system of your mind. The adult of who you are …  — knows that you will dance me till the end of love.

Defines how the moment could be described when someone's listening to somebody else sighing, groaning, and mumbling of pleasure while the body gesticulates with a guilty lust in which each ingredient tasted was touched by deep love and charming passion, cocooned seductive in a starved glance for the appetite of something so-so yearned‽ [trouble over me] ‧ [ 2nd variant... ] [ improved the situation... ] ‧ ‧ [ 1st variant... ][ made some feel cringed ] ‧ I want to feel you sighing and groaning ‧ I want to see you gesticulating in pleasure ‧ I want to taste your joy's throb, plunged in seductive ingredients stirred by love ‧ I want your passion to drive me insane ‧ My starved glance has a mad appetite for that charming, muchly yearned thing ‧ I want you do it with all [trouble over me]

at this moment, i'd want to be with you savoring a glass of something relaxing; delightful would be you to touch me with some of your ravishing diction full of mmm… full of oooh… full of lust, i lean my ear toward you with a shaah... inspecting if i got enough your attention… [i'd love you to want me]

❝ Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses, O you, the all my pleasure, O you, the all my treasure! You'll remember the sweetness of our caresses, The peace of the fireside, the charm of the evenings. Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses!   The evenings were lighted by the glow of the coals,   The evenings on the balcony, veiled with rose mist;   How soft your breast was to me! how kind was your heart!   We often said imperishable things,   The evenings lighted by the glow of the coals. How splendid the sunsets are on warm evenings! How deep space is! how potent is the heart! In bending over you, queen of adored women, I thought I breathed the perfume in your blood. How splendid the sunsets are on warm evenings!   The night was growing dense like an encircling wall,   My eyes in the darkness felt the fire of your gaze   And I drank in your breath, O sweetness, O poison!   And your feet nestled softly in my brotherly hands.   The ...