There are evident walls of invisible matter which maintain the appearance of enviable rectitude, even though the blatancy of our traits confront the myriad of personal dishonesties over timeless planetary separations of union.
So delicate are those seemingly subconscious mechanisms which are subject to our explanatory naïveté and unfathomable presumption.
In this case of psychological avalanche, every metaphorical snowflake within our lives has offered a “not guilty” plea.
Oh, jurors of celestial cities, our mantras have subsided down slopes of exploratory fumbling where excitatory satin slips from the shoulders of a wanton seductress of socio-political exploitation.
Let us ***** an altar, and present an offering to the universe, which surpasses the veneer of familiarity and self-righteous redemptions.
After all, our fantasies are a reality, don’t you think?