chief


After Years by Krzyzanowski Art

one day you are my gifted master-chief
who gives aroma to my love using his love

and on another day you are deep-seated one
who set me not to walk that walk too much

one day you are the fancy face in my tomorrow
and on another day, the essence of my words

for a one day beside another is just archived;
so erase dates, keep today, feel future in past
©ᶜᵒᶜᵒ — un-p’tit-je-ne-sais-quoi

Allan Rayman │ TVC ft. Saint Evaleen

a ballet


Free Soul by GFox.jpg

in the manuscript of your soul, I am
your prime soloist, defined to render
the charm of a ballet directed by you
in the airspace of your temple, where
you adhered to lift me up using ideas
and tactics in the movement of love,
to see how often per day I’m dreamt
©ᶜᵒᶜᵒ — un-p’tit-je-ne-sais-quoi

Sébastien Tellier │ Someone

the night goes on


the eyes are coughing your patience
the lungs are inundating your echoes
the body feels your grey atmosphere
the soul emits perfect your whispers
the night goes on soft in your dream
your frisson utters how you love me
on the earth on the sun on the moon
©ᶜᵒᶜᵒ — un-p’tit-je-ne-sais-quoi

TwoFeet │ iamnotshane │ The Sweet Serenades │ Smeyeul, Galvanic & Haux

love me, sweet


Close Harmony by Willem Haenraets

your nerves, — aphrodisiac to my nerves
your yearning, — frisson to my yearning
your whisper, — emollient to my whisper
your gazing… — irresistible to my gazing
you-you, — explosive passion into me-me
your kiss, it’s pronounced love me, sweet
for your lips are soften than cotton-candy
for your eyes are a haze of the peppermint
for your lungs respires my daring dreams
for your mood is set in me through a song
for my allusions communicate with yours
©ᶜᵒᶜᵒ — un-p’tit-je-ne-sais-quoi

LAV

fire burnin’


strange bouquets of sentiments
invade subtle my spirit

the steam of tempting fragrances, –
linden, mint, and chamomile

the flu’s period flourished amid
inundating with the fire burnin’ inside

gradually the joy is a blessed achoo…
instinctively I’m thinking of you…

©ᶜᵒᶜᵒ — un-p’tit-je-ne-sais-quoi

Dead Posey

1-800-Love


Enchanting Moment by Willem Haenraets
be aroused by traces of my smile… —

a peony’s taste at route of your lips…
a canvas of incidents expressed
with the force of gravity at the power
of ambition and hope in finesses
of a fantasy metamorphosed
with the art of a kiss for the fault
of an overwhelming attraction incited
by distance and accessed discreetly
with that luring call at 1-800-love
of the morning heat subjugated
in a blue opaline confusion of a dream
_____________
©ᶜᵒᶜᵒ — un-p’tit-je-ne-sais-quoi

Mountain Boy │ FLOOR CRY

to build something


Some Enchanted Evening by Jacqui Faye

your absence in the pervy form

using the kinetic energy potency
invaded my thoughts last night
channelizing at absolute your love
in the endorphins of my body just
to climb in the opposite direction 
to another passional momentum
with your lust curled in my pretty,
par excellence to build something
ingenious when you get to me set
©ᶜᵒᶜᵒ — un-p’tit-je-ne-sais-quoi
Malted Milk │ Foy Vance

feel like a woman


he saw in her an apodictic thing
as if she’s waited for somebody
able to disinter any latent desire;
he guided her deeply and tender,
deliberately to make her feel like a woman
who wants to experience fresh fantasies;
using the subatomic resonance,
he aroused a bilateral attraction
by painting galaxy with their love;
•••••••••••••
©ᶜᵒᶜᵒ — un-p’tit-je-ne-sais-quoi
Stealth

boom-boom


She is a Lady by Steve Kuhn

into love’s apotheosis, I am

entirely in the realm of tales
with the murmurs of seas…
but in the nonfictional world
with the inutility of hate,
in the boom-boom of time
with the rumors of the eon
did you ever see a unicorn?
look to yourself in the mirror
©ᶜᵒᶜᵒ — un-p’tit-je-ne-sais-quoi
Donavon Frankenreiter

new day


Haenraets Willem - Invitation

an intrusive picture, with you,
incarnated into white flowers
skilled to obfuscate the liars
using as incantation an elixir
set into the will of a new day
dosed under dew’s influence
cosmic vocalized by crickets
©ᶜᵒᶜᵒ — un-p’tit-je-ne-sais-quoi

TRÏBE

teal


a glance toward
my teal‘s hour
you to listen to
warm whispers
from the sun
for the stars seem
gift of a charlatan
with the audience
in a surplus
of the nothingness
breathing the creativity
of any shadows
shinning among
teeth of the moon
©ᶜᵒᶜᵒ — un-p’tit-je-ne-sais-quoi
Weezer

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