Blade will never be blame
As the brain voluntarily permits
I can feel numbness in my skin
Ready for the sharpness

My thoughts would explode
Yet my flesh have no seem action
For my purpose benefits them
I will give in soon, real soon.

Dearest love,
I will not write another masterpiece
if it’s not all about you.

Your sound wave
transmitted
in my ear drum
went my trillion receptor off.

Hearing
a commercial voice-over
hits differently
when you know that
person is special.

When someone’s voice
becomes
your favorite
auditory hallucination.

You are the rhyme
that refrains
into
my Rondeau Prime.

You’re my constituent
on preventing
my emotion
from corrosion.