In the highest conflagration my of solitude,  
She entered the room apprehended by such beauty,
I felt a gravitational force of our souls,
Force I had not heard from science or lairs of books read,

Of course I began to signal her with my eyes,
Moving like radar locked on,
So distant yet so close her eyes imply in pain,
That procures the inner sanctum of her heart,

As that of butterfly she sits not afar off from me,
Ah I notice a glance procure every so often,
Oh the body of excellence the skin of papal host,
Does she know that I feel alive again or,

Will I be the one to say and to make her solitude?
Deep dark eyes of romp sadness befall upon my heart,
Your slender body bares tenderness in its silence,
The gracefulness of her movement she lives in my mind,

As I close my eyes in daze as a product of,
Another dimension,
As her sadness alludes to my soul and heart,
Everything I envisioned spoke of love,

A conflagration of solitude we call Love,
The unexplained antipathy of all is LOVE”
By A.G. 03/2018