It’s just you, —

as if you’re the only option.

Your soul is caught

in the settings of my dreams.

My gallery is full of you,

natively sweetly brute.

It’s just you, —

my lust and… — bonjour…

(memorized at messages

in short sentences,

conspiring with

sensitive caprices

and skills at any call…)

j’imagine l’amour avec toi…

Moonlight Breakfast │ Train │ Vendredi sur Mer