Within you is a perception I view

Personal;

From the day that awakens and the night that falls through the cracks of my time

Anxiety comes from the eyes I see

Of you to me;

Language of the body is the beauty of art

when it's no longer there society
falls apart;

standoffish to your true self as your mind feels lower than your pride

In a waning crescent I see your mind

and soul;

sanctions of all your thoughts that have traveled

The mental distortion I have of you are vividly blue and secretive

My imaging of the non-conforming norm can fall apart if being proven wrong is the best for my realization of internal anxiousness about the world
and
how it
works

Reading you as if you were a marvel dc comic strip filled with personalities only the heart and curiosity can witness.

short and choppy.

bold with a grip

Here you are

Sand

through my fingertips.