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"aubergine" poems
As this world runs in cruelty and in greed, Our eyes see the world perfect-blindly. Those who have power stay unfair and unjust, indeed - The stated laws were implemented tightly. Power over humanity exists in today’s world. We as powerless have no right to scrutinize, but to concur. Their pledges remain twirled - The hurdle stays in abundance with no cure. It is in us where the grievous suffering is in store; And we have none to succor them all. The hunger and incurable malady strike humankind in any form. It led to increased mortality, decreased economy, but who to call? Whoever has power, our safety cannot be guaranteed – They are the ones that makes our life at risk. They stand as an impediment for our nation not to succeed. Their fall is soon our victory – this is not in the pace-brisk. It’s been a year, still no sign of good deed. Half of the world is asleep – Some shock for awakening their soul is what they need. We have lost enough; at least we have ourselves to keep. The string of our patience reached its limitation. Rich people hoard too much and now most of us left deprived. Who’ll lift marginalized Filipinos in our nation? – Who'll give us fair allocation that is incumbent for us to survive? Tedious journey might it seem. Our souls’ little voices are still unheard. What life this could be without our soaring dream? – We shall move our mountains even gratification is deferred. Now, the time is ours to stand as one with clenched hands, It’s time for us to deplore and abhor their thoughts. It’s time to listen in our souls' little voices to be heard at once. And it’s time for us to break the darkness by our flaming oath. - Aubergine Cher Bautista
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Mar 25, 2021
Mar 25, 2021 at 11:59 PM UTC
Filipinos Little Voices United As One
As this world runs in cruelty and in greed, Our eyes see the world perfect-blindly. Those who have power stay unfair and unjust, indeed - The stated laws were implemented tightly. Power over humanity exists in today’s world. We as powerless have no right to scrutinize, but to concur. Their pledges remain twirled - The hurdle stays in abundance with no cure. It is in us where the grievous suffering is in store; And we have none to succor them all. The hunger and incurable malady strike humankind in any form. It led to increased mortality, decreased economy, but who to call? Whoever has power, our safety cannot be guaranteed – They are the ones that makes our life at risk. They stand as an impediment for our nation not to succeed. Their fall is soon our victory – this is not in the pace-brisk. It’s been a year, still no sign of good deed. Half of the world is asleep – Some shock for awakening their soul is what they need. We have lost enough; at least we have ourselves to keep. The string of our patience reached its limitation. Rich people hoard too much and now most of us left deprived. Who’ll lift marginalized Filipinos in our nation? – Who'll give us fair allocation that is incumbent for us to survive? Tedious journey might it seem. Our souls’ little voices are still unheard. What life this could be without our soaring dream? – We shall move our mountains even gratification is deferred. Now, the time is ours to stand as one with clenched hands, It’s time for us to deplore and abhor their thoughts. It’s time to listen in our souls' little voices to be heard at once. And it’s time for us to break the darkness by our flaming oath. - Aubergine Cher Bautista
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They've been working on this for years Inside the government To try a replace the brain of man With that of a purple eggplant This idea to me sounds genius If you know what it is that I mean People round here might start making sense Pass the veggies if you please They called all the top notched scientists And vegetarians throughout the land To see what would be the best variety In this eggplant transplant experiment They settled on the aubergine Great Brittan's joy and pride When it comes to the perfect eggplant Those Limey's will not be denied They were afraid if they went to the private sector That person would surely be missed So they grabbed someone unsuspecting Inside of the government They told the low level employee A bit of truth mixed with a little white lie They needed him for his vast understanding and knowledge Plus they'd be serving cookies on the side They added a little something to the cookie dough That knocked the governmental genius to his knees Plopped him down on the gurney ...Let the experiment proceed if you please They cracked his skull wide open Where upon they couldn't believe their eyes Right there inside of his cranium Already an eggplant did reside
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Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 4:34 PM UTC
Eggplant Transplant Experiment
Right now, loving you feels the way my toes do when stepping on pebbles (the stones they put on your back in physical therapy) or mining ore - supposed to be cold, but extremely hot to touch. A copper meadow shimmy into a tree so you can look up my dress and catch me like gold armor when I tumble, tumble. One defense, two defense, three defense, four worms with spines as soft as hair try to spindle cobwebs where we skip and hopscotch skeletons dunk our heads in some sea but pickaxes make air pockets, iron is a pillow for us to sleep. The lights cease when you leave no longer nearby is the helmet that exudes site - I think I could mine meteorite from your soul, there’s only demonite in my own. Let’s build a house with it then wait for the bad men to leave, it is night again perhaps they shall be burned by my evil. Shrouded in wood, tucked into a golden chest the walls are a deep purple amethyst, aubergine, build our ceiling some citrine - bunnies swallow the window frame and I cry because somehow it is my fault, I try to jump but I fall. And you open the door, you let in some monsters, how I hate you for a moment. But no bad man can get you even ones who have skin sunken like a dead spider pull out an archery kit seventy-seven arrows, I put them all in hearts leaving one special hook for you Cupid gave to me. We make a great team demonite meteorite silver copper topaz gold-tipped and sterling the vultures listen in jealously knowing this is what love can feel like right now.
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May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
terraria poem
Right now, loving you feels the way my toes do when stepping on pebbles (the stones they put on your back in physical therapy) or mining ore - supposed to be cold, but extremely hot to touch. A copper meadow shimmy into a tree so you can look up my dress and catch me like gold armor when I tumble, tumble. One defense, two defense, three defense, four worms with spines as soft as hair try to spindle cobwebs where we skip and hopscotch skeletons dunk our heads in some sea but pickaxes make air pockets, iron is a pillow for us to sleep. The lights cease when you leave no longer nearby is the helmet that exudes site - I think I could mine meteorite from your soul, there’s only demonite in my own. Let’s build a house with it then wait for the bad men to leave, it is night again perhaps they shall be burned by my evil. Shrouded in wood, tucked into a golden chest the walls are a deep purple amethyst, aubergine, build our ceiling some citrine - bunnies swallow the window frame and I cry because somehow it is my fault, I try to jump but I fall. And you open the door, you let in some monsters, how I hate you for a moment. But no bad man can get you even ones who have skin sunken like a dead spider pull out an archery kit seventy-seven arrows, I put them all in hearts leaving one special hook for you Cupid gave to me. We make a great team demonite meteorite silver copper topaz gold-tipped and sterling the vultures listen in jealously knowing this is what love can feel like right now.
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horns squawk    rainforest avenues      exoskeleton of cars    arteries clogged with unlovely   taxi cabs fat  green  fruit for sale      five languages merge into a knot hisses    kiss    vowels    kiwis apples pears    black guys   basketball debt rises like      blood pressure stocks tumble     but we walk brogues clop on concrete count  brick after  brick sun cascades    over roof slates mind cracks in slabs    (you say Monroe      stood here)    heat quivers men are dominoes suits    for the office    a funeral designer sneakers    daddy paid for pigtails   cheap thrills   violet octagons   on a stranger’s neck (behind the closed doors) today I drink purple water      aubergine lips remind me of a Tuscany Superb    list the names Houston   Charlton Leroy   Sullivan Perry   Cornelia Dominick and Jane (ladders lead                 away from me                 close to you) and back again
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Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
Tuscany Superb
holi pigment splash on your skin. tangerine, aubergine, saffron paladins. a carousel of mourning veils in pretty pretty ruby red. decadent dancing in the streets with no regrets. whatever came the day before, i can't remember anymore. the drinks and streamers impugn disbelievers.
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Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 4:48 AM UTC
absolution
The graduation party with fried aubergine, croutons and rye whisky has raised the hairs of the alumni. Kismets  afoot about forming a band, named after actress Alice White, intuitive bluesy Psychedelicia. Devonport's dappling on bass and Schemtar's already on drums. The devils in the details with the lead singer, for the want of a lead guitarist they are gyved. But if they practice like clockwork the turnaround will resonant .
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Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 11:19 AM UTC
Kirkdale takes 1968.
"That one looks like a dragon," you said, extending your arm to the night sky. Sure enough, against the aubergine purple, there is a head and a tail and a tongue and a tiny lick of flame. The wheat feels frigid when compared to the heat of your waist. I pull you in closer terrified that the immensity of this field will swallow us. That we would sink down its esophagus, away from the sky. The stars are out now. And I imagine being swallowed. Of falling up into the universe. A celestial dive. I lick my lips and whisper to you and the stars and even the wheat, "This night will haunt me forever."
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Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 1:20 PM UTC
Stargazing
Castelfranco Radicchio wilted slightly maintaining backbone Aubergine Du Burkina Faso Eggplant grilled in olive oil fresh ground peppercorn and basil gently laid onto a delicate bed bright green and fresh Cour Di Bue Cabbage Molokia Purple Sweet Potatoes julienne and drizzled La Vecchia Dispensa Balsamic Vinegar aged 100 years mingled with the brightest yellow Amarillo Carrot and thin rounds of a Jaune Paille Des Vertus Onion offsetting the purples and yellows with gleaming white – art presents itself as poetry via recipe in the fattest nation Earth has ever known –
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Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 11:47 AM UTC
just another salad poem.....
sweet tree raised from tropical earth to grow upright and out to sprout from trunk a bunch of pink and pointed pods or perhaps crimson or yellow aubergine tangerine green scythed clean from host and hacked in two for getting at seeds a-pulp in white and slimed and spreading them out under the sun to get hot in their own juices to ferment wild to bake dry poured tinkling by the thousands into sacks of hessian for sending ‘cross seas to furnace-cracked futures winnied and conched sweetened melted and hardened into shapes of other things © 2017 Adelaide Heathfield
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Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 8:27 AM UTC
Cacao
A Palette of Sunrise Bronze spears waltz with pure aubergine amid cauliflower cumulus – gold touch-paper. Sugar sprinkled wash with candy pink bubble-burst stains church spire and oak. Saturated in spongy tangerine night-shapes meld into broken egg yolk coffee spills through fields. Foggy wool tufts grasp mushy-pea hillocks, sweat drops from tired shoots. If I was a mender of souls I would prescribe five minutes, twice a day.
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Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 2:22 PM UTC
A Pallette of Sunrise
J'observe depuis mon télescope Au-delà des nuages Ta photo qui sautille Et je suis les courbes, les points et les lignes Et je trace des figures imaginaires Les constellations Et soudain tu apparais Endimanchée Pénitente Ultra Violette Souriante Entre deux ciels Tu me fais signe Et m'invites à danser Et je te suis comme ton ombre Je retiens mon souffle Je plonge dans le mandala De ton champ de Cinabre Je viens à tes côtés Je m'ancre à tes eaux Je suis ton lama, ton gourou Et toi tu es ma parèdre, ma  bouddha Ma dakini souveraine et je te déshabille en dansant Et je déboutonne une après l 'autre Les étoiles couleur aubergine Qui composent ta constellation. C 'est une constellation disparue Que seul moi puis voir. Il m'arrive à l 'oeil nu de t'apercevoir Au détour d'un rêve comme en cet instant précis Et la musique résonne si forte dans l 'espace Je vois tes lèvres bouger mais je n 'entends rien Mais soudain tes yeux hurlent et tu me clignes ton nom en morse : dash dot dash dot dash dash dash dash dot dash dash dash dash dash dash dot C, une longue, une brève, une longue, une brève O, trois longues Y, une longue, une brève, deux longues O, trois longues T, une longue E, une brève.
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Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 12:54 AM UTC
Dans ton champ de Cinabre
Me? I am beautiful Aubergine. Thin skin and spongy flesh - spotless Yet sophisticated with a plain taste To drink down with your red wine Or drizzle over with balsamic vinaigrette Something sweet to the acidic to kick you back reel you in. Make me flashy; Mix me in. Wait for the ingredients to sink through my skin. Do you like my flavor? I am an Egg Plant Rejected when Raw. -S.Kelly Woz '13
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Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 11:20 PM UTC
Deeper Than Skin
. *blue clouds drift lazily across variegated hues of aubergine skies shapeless shades of dark purple open brilliant framed portals, urging thoughts beyond a feeble ray of dappled light upon sensual fusion softly caressing twilight adorned canvas, the way moonlight basks upon freckled skin brushing intimate flesh tones perched atop a swinging star; sketching the moment a pink moon’s ebbing tableau breathless sighs surrendered in an intimate circadian rhythm, our mingled moon shadows' cadence unleashed glow drops glistening like heirloom diamond tiara constellations swimming naked between the jealous stars* wild is the wind
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Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 5:24 PM UTC
swimming naked between the jealous stars
if we had our own vein in the place that we share I think I'd give you my all Although I'm uncertain of so many things you are the grace in my fall Not in the way that the people connote Time an illusion to them Deeper than indigo purple can go I am the shade in your realm Stop the mechanical hands that I hold Tell me the cold is a dream Tell me the taste would be bitter and stale Skin cannot claim you and me
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Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
My aubergine dream
If I were pink What would you think? If I were blue Would you be too? If I were green Would you be mean? If I were yellow Would we still be mellow? If I were black Would you attack? If I were brown Would you turn me down? If I were beige Would we still engage? If I were heliotrope Could we go elope? If I were vermillion Could we go to a cotillion? If I were maroon Would you buy me macaroons? If I were aubergine Could we go to Dairy Queen? And if I were cerise Would your affection cease? Brent Kincaid 4/7/2015
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Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
COLORFUL QUESTIONS
there sits secrecy above my mind’s private mountain. the domes proudly ***** displaying friendly aubergine flags atop the spires. welcome, come one come all. a world unto its own with striped colored domes; ruby, jade, sapphire, gold running circular with no end. the way to odyssey is by the plume vessel that treks afar the healing sparkled waters only to bring the lost and the ones who already know to the land of euphoria. upon entering the black and white checkered entrance transformation in motion. hear the lovely bells and chimes accompanying the chorus the gregorian chant. you have come to the place never to leave the same amassing great blessings.~~lorilynn art~~aimee stewart copyright*lorilynn 2010
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Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 8:49 PM UTC
SECLUDED DOMES
Haven't you heard Of the two faces Of Earth? Towards the west You'll see her mot horrendous Where the monochrome Roads represent Her parched tongue That dries out Day by day And her pastel pink cheeks Lose their color While her leafy green hair Gets cut everyday When she breathes out Filmy grey exhaust Replaces the frothy white Clouds that she wishes Would become hers Her sky blue eyes Ones nobody Doon't recognize anymore Have become dark and dull And an dreary aubergine As her tears Leave ***** trails Across her cheeks Trails of plastic bottles and Papers tossed away Move to the south Where the yellow sun Becomes the second face's smile Tinkling dandelion seeds are her laugh Rolling spring green hills Are the curls of her hair And the oceans are her swimming pool But when she sees Her other half With every beat of their volcanic heart Both won't live
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Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 12:11 AM UTC
Two faced Earth
It was only a line, a flash, a blurb but it lit a lifeline to mangrove minds, chandeliers in the street, peacock feathers, art ****** sunsets trapped in bleeding orange and emails of honesty. Who was this vibrant artist waddling colours of purple passion aubergine temples of trust murals of majestic visions nights of bright lights and poems from the streets of dawn bohemian Queen painting ecstasies in double entredres whispering apologies collecting little bits of jigsaw life making sense of sublimation unafraid to speak the truth She must be special. in the selfie of the moment she opened a window to let me peer in and I stayed well past the unreasonable hour. Fascinated. Author Notes The Artist. Have met her many times before. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
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Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
Click
His body sinks to the depths of fading thoughts, returning, shifting sand-dune visions. She bathes in the trickle of letters escaping burnt lips like when she ***** in the moonlight adrift his month-long lunar withdrawal -or when she lets the breeze hit her to erase the thunder. She traces his words with her heart following lines on a crumbling map -callused fingertip rubbing against yellow paper as once he would trace a corpse’s veins. Aubergine voice then seeps through pores into her vacuous chest -prying open bleeding heart heart which hides in a corner of her quiet brain brain that heals him from memories of immortalized hollow of her necks against ghostly wrists memories burning worse than fire. Together they lie in the dark amidst deserts of emotions, pools of memories, rivers of unshed tears, -daylight drowsily approaching to chase away lingering dreams.
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Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 8:07 AM UTC
(undecided title)
Stars a'spanglin' across them blue-dye skies, them mid-night-summer-night none too bright starred out janglin'– O' them blitzin' skies. *"Hey. Would ya look in that westward? That western, he's too bored to breathe."* Fire's a'preyin' here nightly. Owl feathers and the soot. I call crab-apples applied science. Red shone blue by the water. I'm sayin' don't tread lightly when there's snow underfoot. *"You gotta breathe it if you ain't playin'. Gotta be sure, be assuring you're right."* Feelin' some skin by the waterside! Them ditches all dug so deep– Gonna feel it out, all clamorin' with a'drummin' hearts by the ditch. Majesty, majesty, majesty. Aubergine, neigh. O' Sanguine, you keep. *"I'll mark you. You mark me."* What a deed by the ditch– skin! Yea to that red, hot and lit and all a'dangerin'. O' burning, blood beating– Embers a'glowin' now. Tobacco's back to bein' lit. Skin singes and I'll scab up. I cross'd them arms by that ditch. Waters be dark. All them remedies be done.
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Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 9:01 PM UTC
Skin by the Waterside
Down at Selfridges I wanted to dalliance with one of the heavenly shop girls, a la food concessions caught my eye despite breaking out in a cold sweat at the collective cost of a Tunisan aubergine and Nazareth salad, I insisted eating out at the Cafe Rouge, only to awake in a New Eltham sink estate sated full of fromage blanc expired before yesterday, Discovering  paradoxically beauty as a regimen could be quite unforgiving . I wondered if the Highgrove  concession would have been anymore durable?
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Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 7:22 PM UTC
Sated at Selfridges.
I CAN BUILD YOU A DREAM BUT YOU CAN'T AFFORD IT', I'LL GIVE YOU WHAT YOU DON'T REQUIRE - MAYBE A SPIRE, YOUR REQUESTS BECOME THE OBJECT OF MY DESIRE, IF YOU'RE HAPPY, THEN MY FANTASY IS FOR HIRE; WATER FEATURES ARE MANDATORY, TRANQUIL, PLEASING, WE CAN EVEN TRY SOME QUANTITATIVE EASING - RIGHT? AND GIVE YOU SOME NOOKS AND CRANNIES WITH WHAT'S LEFT; NOW PLANTING SOFTENS THE BLOWS, BRINGS DOWN HIGHS AND LOWS, WHY YOU NEEDED A PURPLE AGAPANTHUS - GOD ONLY KNOWS, A SOUTH - FACING VIEW IS THE LEAST WE CAN DO, WITH A JACUZZI IN BEDROOM TWO, COLOURS WILL BE MAUVE, PINK AND AUBERGINE - ENOUGH TO GIVE YOU A MIGRAINE; I CAN ONY HOPE THAT YOU LIKE THIS WONDERFUL ******** BECAUSE ALL OF THE MATERIALS WERE A NATURAL SELECTION!
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Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 10:00 PM UTC
THE ARCHITECT
Hummmm. Mon Immortelle, mes aïeux ! Comme tu es appétissante ! Je n'en crois pas mes yeux ! J'ai agrandi ta photo jusqu'à ce qu'elle crève l 'écran. J 'aurais pu t'embrasser si je l 'avais voulu, Tellement tu étais proche, magnifiée ! Mais je me suis retenu et j 'ai décidé de détourner le regard de ta chair et de me concentrer sur les accessoires car le risque d'atteindre une illumination visuelle à distance aurait été grand si j 'avais seulement pris le temps de m'attarder Une demi-seconde sur le lac de tes yeux profonds et la moue sur tes lèvres couleur aubergine Je me suis donc consacré exclusivement à l 'examen minutieux, Détail après détail,   de tes accessoires, de tes épices. Oh ne m'en veux pas Si ce n 'était pas toi, la déesse, que je regardais défiler Sur l 'écran à vitesse lente chevauchant une tigresse blanche Mais tes accessoires Et tes accessoires en disent long sur ton essentiel ! Ce sont des accessoires magiques, physiques, magnétiques, chimiques Un simple verre de vin de letchi devient entre tes doigts du divin jus de jade Tes boucles d'oreille et ton collier  d'argent assorti d'une fleur blanche odorante majestueuse! Jasmin ? Frangipanier ? Rose ? Orchidée ? Lotus ? Dis moi ! Tes bagues dorées au majeur et à l 'annulaire, main droite comme main gauche, deux par main Des fleurs, encore des boutons de fleurs ! De veuvage ? De mariage ? De fiançailles ? Tes deux bracelets  d'argent au poignet gauche Sans oublier ta robe bleue imprimée à fleurs Et tes mocassins bleus assortis. Et ton pantalon blanc bien évidemment ! Laissons de côté ce sublime rouge à lèvres couleur aubergine ! Bref j 'ai passé en ***** tout ce qui t'enlumine et t'illumine Sans être toi tout en étant toi. Comme ton sac en bandoulière et ce verre de vin de letchi ou de jade que tu presses entre tes doigts. Tes accessoires sont la voie royale vers ton essentiel ! Et je sais désormais que tu es fleur caméléon, Je sais les couleurs de ta quintessence : Tigresse de jade blanc aux oreilles et au cou Dorée au bout des doigts et marron et blanche sur fond bleu, Toute de lianes et feuilles et clochettes Toute fleurs de  safran, gingembre, curcuma Piment, tamarin et cannelle Des épaules aux cuisses ! Me voilà bien avancé, n 'est-ce pas, ma fleur, Dragon de jade, sur ton chemin de Compostelle ! ?
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Aug 27, 2019
Aug 27, 2019 at 5:18 AM UTC
Accessoires
Hummmm. Mon Immortelle, mes aïeux ! Comme tu es appétissante ! Je n'en crois pas mes yeux ! J'ai agrandi ta photo jusqu'à ce qu'elle crève l 'écran. J 'aurais pu t'embrasser si je l 'avais voulu, Tellement tu étais proche, magnifiée ! Mais je me suis retenu et j 'ai décidé de détourner le regard de ta chair et de me concentrer sur les accessoires car le risque d'atteindre une illumination visuelle à distance aurait été grand si j 'avais seulement pris le temps de m'attarder Une demi-seconde sur le lac de tes yeux profonds et la moue sur tes lèvres couleur aubergine Je me suis donc consacré exclusivement à l 'examen minutieux, Détail après détail,   de tes accessoires, de tes épices. Oh ne m'en veux pas Si ce n 'était pas toi, la déesse, que je regardais défiler Sur l 'écran à vitesse lente chevauchant une tigresse blanche Mais tes accessoires Et tes accessoires en disent long sur ton essentiel ! Ce sont des accessoires magiques, physiques, magnétiques, chimiques Un simple verre de vin de letchi devient entre tes doigts du divin jus de jade Tes boucles d'oreille et ton collier  d'argent assorti d'une fleur blanche odorante majestueuse! Jasmin ? Frangipanier ? Rose ? Orchidée ? Lotus ? Dis moi ! Tes bagues dorées au majeur et à l 'annulaire, main droite comme main gauche, deux par main Des fleurs, encore des boutons de fleurs ! De veuvage ? De mariage ? De fiançailles ? Tes deux bracelets  d'argent au poignet gauche Sans oublier ta robe bleue imprimée à fleurs Et tes mocassins bleus assortis. Et ton pantalon blanc bien évidemment ! Laissons de côté ce sublime rouge à lèvres couleur aubergine ! Bref j 'ai passé en ***** tout ce qui t'enlumine et t'illumine Sans être toi tout en étant toi. Comme ton sac en bandoulière et ce verre de vin de letchi ou de jade que tu presses entre tes doigts. Tes accessoires sont la voie royale vers ton essentiel ! Et je sais désormais que tu es fleur caméléon, Je sais les couleurs de ta quintessence : Tigresse de jade blanc aux oreilles et au cou Dorée au bout des doigts et marron et blanche sur fond bleu, Toute de lianes et feuilles et clochettes Toute fleurs de  safran, gingembre, curcuma Piment, tamarin et cannelle Des épaules aux cuisses ! Me voilà bien avancé, n 'est-ce pas, ma fleur, Dragon de jade, sur ton chemin de Compostelle ! ?
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