Day by day,
night by night,
such a cliche opening;

I hate it.

Usually,
I can sit & write unbounded
but recently my brain's been
cleaved into microscopic encryptions.

It seems almost impossible to
...elucidate my mental paradigm
...or maybe to accept it?

Sometimes...
I find myself
yearning to write about nature
but then I begin to cogitate on
how aesthetic nature is.

Trees and flowers.
"You and me.
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
..under the trees.
R-O-L-L-I-N-G
...in the flowers.
You and me."

****.

Don't get things misconstrued,
I just love,
writing about love.

There's a girl I've never met
but mentally it feels like,
we share telepathy.
I feel like
...within the distance between us,
there's this distinctive cryptic aura
and I yearn to decrypt it.

****.

...told you I just love writing about love.
Ironically though,
I'm far from ready for it.
                                                             ­        -d.b.d.