I sense the words askew,
in the recess of my soul.
It tends to lend some credence
if the ending is sublime...

Deeds recognized beyond you.
Does nothing leave its hole?
Develop something more than dance,
dessert my endless climb...

Ask only if you dare to view
a monster black as coal.
Address the thrill of holding hands,
and help me reach my prime...

Lust doesn’t mean a simple brew,
laid neatly in a bowl.
Life’s hugs are often happenstance,
left loving all the time...

In harmony we come as two;
I’m breathless from the toll.
It’s just another kissless trance
involved in a crime...

Scurrying thoughts without a clue;
succumbing from our stroll.
Shadowy dreams that will enhance;
some days are more sublime...