waiting for the morning lights

his lips narrate on her skin
his metagalactic love, —
a blue marvel love enlightened
by a loyal companion, — moon
in all its stage and with any kind
of imperfection and excellency

her lips nonchalantly articulate
tenderly, his name, — a name
that invites you simultaneously
to relax and manifest wildishly
testing lustily the love’s parade
as it felt in their acute passion

his lips and her lips scream love
and express their longing without
waiting for the morning lights, —
their deifying is live the moment
©ᵏᴼᵏᴼ — un-p’tit-je-ne-sais-quoi


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