I'll show !
And you tell !
And sometimes   I can't tell !
And when the showing is telling,
and the telling is showing,
I can't make hands nor tails of this
entire whole game !
Tell me what I show !
Show me what I tell !
The class applauds !
But then the class is silenced !
And in where in which, in each of there and this, does my lies amiss ?

And are we to subsist away from the realities of bliss
where every of note
is either just a hit or a miss ?
A miss that is a hit ?
A hit that is a miss ?
Then where do we resist ?

And then why does your gravity send me a kiss ?
Is it because my skin reeks of its
deprivity ?
Its lack from that plan to longevity ?
longing lastings of the lasting
longings ?
the fasting of the wrongings done to
the passing belongings ?