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(Poetry) Some Spiciness, My Sweet

Made truly for a particular playlist. If you want to be burnt, drowned, intoxicated, or whatever you call this feeling when you play these songs, then follow this link on Spotify. Maybe it might inspire me to make a particular novel someday. But I am too lazy and dull at the moment to bring these suffocating thoughts. So, just going to pile senseless bad poetries in the meantime.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6vr6wfxvauajQBcgInqQVT?si=28bb801f00554f4e&pt=24a86a0c0708f32a301f9f7f6ee0ce68

(By the by, I might also make youtube videos with particular sets of playlists for pieces or anything I'll scribble. Merci. A bientot.)

Some Spiciness, My Sweet

S'il vous plait, monsieur

I was never for poetry,

But I'll dive and scribble to thread your silence,

Do you want me?

Oui? Si? No?

For I shall sing like a SIREN under a curse, for I burn for you.

You are as intoxicating and inviting as a flame,

Those black orbs enchant me to a flaming reality,

That I am to swim in the space between your uncertainty,

That high bridge of a nose leads me to those perturbing promises of venom,

For you sunk me up, drown me with your dressed up lines,

Making this intrepid lady BURST INTO FLAMES,

Every stanza you stitch does not rhyme with those minuscule bounded expressions you poorly hid,

But I willingly swam and got CRUSHed

For this poet was enthralled to you, PRETTY BOY

You got her DIVING and dancing to your dubious beat.

Albeit, she enacted she didn't see how smitten you are with your novel diamond in breeches staging secrecy.

How she wishes she didn't see you underneath.

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63022 (1:00 pm)

Note: This doesn't make sense. My apologies. For I also cannot ken what's also in my mind. How silly. Too intoxicated with what I have watched and read. Were our feelings alike?