Imaginary affection, illusionary connection.
I am lost in the worst of more than one section,
my cloud is separated from my ozon layer
and the longer I wait the farther and stayer.

Explanations are immortal to those who stare,
entranced and smoothly picked from the bunch.
What would your answer be if I asked you out for lunch?
I'd like to know before I ask for real, seems fair?

Comparing to analogous past situations, habits
and negations, what did I do wrong? I read,
people, all around me, examining to grab it's
full potential. Sometimes it hurts, once it led

to girls who fled, feelings of regret, hardship bled by
the dead, spread, on the deficient bed of newly wed
sensations.