illegal fun

kilograms of hours
my longing weighs
is seen on my thighs
hankering to feel you
laying ’em in a split
to look in… to moan
loving what you see

kilograms of hours
stars sang my blues
invoking your scent
your sensual sound
gasping in my bedding
crazy charming nest
agonized by dreams

kilograms of hours
in waiting and hoping
with you in the past
with me in a future
hung there in illegal fun
between edge and lust
at just a touch away

un p’tit je ne sais quoi © ᶜᵒᶜᵒ ;₎₎

art by Emma Silk

Poetry in 13 (191)

his lips on my body, —
aleatory moves
of sensitive particles, —
revolution inside me

pretty please


un p'tit je ne sais quoi

Shhhh. This is a privy conversation.
A mysterious and pretty please kind.
One between tender Moon and Sun.
It happens somewhere far far away
in a bookstore of the galaxy, where
the spoken language has the accent
of their passion perfect symmetrically
with the shapes made by scars of love
and of their dominant longing. Carnal.
This is a privy conversation. Shhhh…
It’s not for watching it but feel it…

un p’tit je ne sais quoi © ᶜᵒᶜᵒ ;₎₎

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