in your sights i felt thunder,
glamorous, humbling, coloring me.
the cadence of your feet, upon icy sheets,
up was a flanking stare, sundering me.
upon winter flowers, a warm blanket, at the apogee,
bundling, a sparkling picnic with kindling.
hungry and spent, still leveling, revelrous,
disguised instincts as misgivings, querulous.
dalliance abiding, an abode-esque semblance,
and many silly kitchen grown sentences.
buttered up, rapt and clasped in exchange of gaze,
laconic at most in lieu of pleading.
twain unsure of meaning,
volition.
twain apologetic,
for teasing in lieu of stealing.
prohibited mission,
reciprocation solicitation.
when left bereft, left shaken.
perhaps cages were staged,
built beside mistakes,
forgiven if forsaken.
one of these days, then.

flaunting verbiage,
with a monkish tint,
hungry and spent.
a mild breath scent, emanating herb and taciturnity.
trundling forthward, draped in a certain verdancy,
certainly burdened with this flirtatiously unhinged uncertainty.
no longer careening, bundling kindling,
suffering kinship, indexing my woolgathering,
to begin the inner mending, expenditure now dwindling.
ontologically building, a great garden in sentience, ascending,
extentless, heaven, now, then, ever present.

in a heady state, steady gazing.
exuding grace, with an awkward gait.
animating in me, a struck state,
coquetting, a wonderfully befuddling face.

torpedo ink, some doubts to sink,
another mouthful, bruising to bethink.
without lexical integrity,
they're solecistic towards pedagogy, amusingly distinct.
basking in the blasphemy, armed to the teeth, blameless and bruised,
putting on another comical skit, guiltlessly bemused.
but don't sit next to me at this ball,
i'm pensively perusing the aisles of protocol.
baffled, more putrid than pellucid,
this hobnobbing appalls me, the exclusively reclusive.
a nuisance shindig, conversations far too allusive.
enough with the palaver, and this shallow vernacular,
far too stupid, far too human, forehead now growing vascular.
make way for me to make hastily for the exit, please,
my apologies, but i'm far too pedantic to revel in this cesspit, jeez.

anomalous, employing confidence despite artlessness,
effortlessly emending residual callowness.
seldom forgetting to find the time and peace of mind
to wield my puerilism as a social chisel,
avoiding parergies, attempting to carve out a balance
in between conscious frivolity and daily drivel.

a ruby motive.
pruriently evolving,
to a lotus tree.

the sequence requires a temporal pretense,
thusly prescribing time to thoughts that i tend to frequently frequent,
learning to liken my notions to pen strokes, ascensive.
harmonizing with the world, instead of agonizing over it,
prosperous from this defective preemptive pension.
remaining aggressively pensive, and peaceably gamboling,
towards a dangerously receptive conscious-less contemplation.
never unrelenting with the questioning, iron-****** in the leavening.
perpending, then comprehending viable praxis and cognation.
flirting with what i initially anticipated, practicing diurnal satiation.