A struggling scholar
suffocates under satin
sheets, silver weaves of
wool washing him in
a prudent ponderance,
postulating the possibilities
of potential preconceptions
positioned as pending promises,
tectonic tremors of time’s turbulence.

Muscle memory mimics
my melancholy motivation,
mundane mysteries molding
into lucid dreams of lifeless
discovery, of lamenting decisions
lining days of limited desire.

So I ignore the indulgence of
intimate incidents, the influx of
inhibiting infatuations inhabiting
my independence --

I break the form
and do as I need.