In the wave-strike over unquiet stones

In the wave-strike over unquiet stones

the brightness bursts and bears the rose
and the ring of water contracts to a cluster
to one drop of azure brine that falls.
O magnolia radiance breaking in spume,
magnetic voyager whose death flowers
and returns, eternal, to being and nothingness:
shattered brine, dazzling leap of the ocean.
Merged, you and I, my love, seal the silence
while the sea destroys its continual forms,
collapses its turrets of wildness and whiteness,
because in the weft of those unseen garments
of headlong water, and perpetual sand,
we bear the sole, relentless tenderness. ❞
Pablo Neruda

echo, — eu quero

theme,  — rest time  🎨 Monika Luniak

the uncommunicativeness
fabricated the alphabet of silence
composing words from sounds
combined with mine and yours
plasticized in inverted commas
because a title can be dotted;
the scheme of words gets to you
kissing your lips haunted
in the nuance of a flirt
with the murmur of a thought
in the anticipation of responses
to the questions of my soul
palpitating in the syllables which
if can’t be read can be heard
in any language written on staves
created by your secret echo
at a side of the world with suspires
susurrated in the mirror of the sky
tinted passionately in eu quero

©ᵏᴼᵏᴼ ↭ un p’tit je ne sais quoi
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club │ Kid Francescoli ft. Samantha

elle… et moi…

❝ Un coin d’une rue
Une enfant
Très belle
Très blonde
Quelque part dans la ville
Elle et Moi
Un jardin
Un regard
Une étreinte
Un frisson
Des yeux qui se lèvent
Une larme qui coule
Sur sa joue
La douceur de ses lèvres
Elle et Moi
Son corps vibre sous mes caresses
Nos souffles se mêlent
L’amour nous enveloppe
Le velours de sa jupe
Ses jambes
Que mes mains découvrent
Elle et Moi
Ses mains dans mes cheveux
Me griffent
Excitent mon désir
Son désir
Ma bouche devient folle
Le satin de sa peau
Elle et Moi
Ses vêtements se déchirent
et libèrent sa chair
Sa voix m’appelle
Je t’embrasse, je t’aime
Tu es belle
Ton ventre, tes seins
Elle et Moi
Ton coeur qui bat
Au rythme de l’amour
Ce rythme qui nous emporte loin
Très loin
En toi
Au plus profond de toi
Tu gémis
Mon amour
Aime de toutes tes forces
Elle et Moi
Mes mains
Ma bouche
fouillent ton corps
Qui se donne à n’en plus fini
Ton corps
Mon corps
Dans l’herbe
Un cri
Ton cri
Ton plaisir
Et plus rien
Le calme
Elle et Moi ❞

— Max Berlin —

till the end of time, uh“`¿?

what's quack'in (duck-boy) 🎨 Lucia Heffernan

in a way known only by me and you,
we gonna love each other until
the end of the world and then…
forever after, we’ll build another one,
identical with your soul and mine…
to resist till the end of time… uh“`¿?
©ᵏᴼᵏᴼ ↭ un p’tit je ne sais quoi

Johnny Stimson │ Fujiya & Miyagi

Arthur Rimbaud

❝ Her clothes were almost off;
outside, a curious tree
beat a branch at the window
to see what it could see.
Perched on my enormous easy chair,
half nude, she clasped her hands.
Her feet trembled on the floor,
as soft as they could be.
I watched as a ray of pale light,
trapped in the tree outside,
danced from her mouth
to her breast, like a fly on a flower.
I kissed her delicate ankles.
She had a soft, brusque laugh
that broke into shining crystals — 
a pretty little laugh.
Her feet ducked under her chemise;
‘Will you please stop it!…’
But I laughed at her cries — 
I knew she really liked it.
Her eye trembled beneath my lips;
they closed at my touch.
Her head went back; she cried:
‘Oh, really! That’s too much!
‘My dear, I’m warning you…’
I stopped her protest with a kiss
and she laughed, low — 
a laugh that wanted more than this…
Her clothes were almost off;
outside, a curious tree
beat a branch at the window
to see what it could see… ❞

The First Evening
[première soirée]
[performer · Eric Ruf]

getten’ to know you

getten’ to know you… it meant

to get in the settings of the soul,
to open the folder, — [status]
to check off — [the happiness]
and set the password, — [loved]
everything else can be omitted

just a thought…

i let myself drifting through the poems of the sea,
through the blueness of some slow sounds, then,
i get in delirium, surfing in their whirl dreaming
that i could see what you saw in your dreams dreamt
which could shimmer through the haze and between
all archipelagos of the winter stars, hidden carefully
in your heavenly eyes and in your chic thoughts with
scents of nightly visions by the attire of silhouettes
with the aspect of your sigh which utters groggy
in my dreams, just a thought… i-want-you… badly…

Jeffery Liberman

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