the pleasured thrills of a une liaison dangereuse the mystery du triangle hypoténuse
two open, unended lines attached to make a so interesting right (wrong) angle, mais sans l'hypoténuse leur est pas de connectivité
indeed the hypotenuse hypothetical is crack for my brain imagination steel furnace fired, molten are my fingers as they trace the line you left for me on your body
to adore to cherish to lick to follow an arrow pointing where?
to the heavenly pleasures that earth reside in our differences substantial which intrigue rather than divide
opposites attract is true and not, we could be we could not be more unalike that so excites for dreams only I can uncover in the rounded shape of thine wide eyes
a horrific inserts she is only teasing me
but the need to dance on the brink the fulfillment that origins in a need perpetual is the one that satisfies because it cannot be fully satisfied
if you know this need, then you are mine bonded
beyond is at where the hypotenuse connect our lines,*
"we'd be beyond human, beyond poem, beyond horizon, beyond stars and black holes and daisy-chains and metaphors with nothing to say to say to an end, because it goes on, my dear, -- I'll see you at the brink...dance with me there"
a woman in the shape of a young girl, her eyes wider than a grand boulevard, who writes me in scattered verses I can’t comprehend takes my hands in the metro on our way to St. Germain-des-Pres, where she will make confession she loves another, forgetting that was her first reveal and why I now laugh/love her maintenant, plus complètement
<•> un jour je vous enverrai un message au parc Monceau à 1500 heures; être prêt