Standing flaccid amidst the crowd
A leaning crystal, alone in the crowd
Mourning and notes, in cream they swirl
Confessions on scraps, to thieves and to girls
Dazzling that vanilla glow,
An open window lovely substrate
I see myself, though not as they see
Dialogues seeded by the beans of genius
All percolate, till the room is black drink
A hot pulchritude of flare and space
Aesthetic papered everywhere, on each and every face
My cosmos lined with little stars,
They, too, are so far away
And charming like a child.
Two engulfing waves lead me by the hand
Both sides can’t hear content
Though too much noise, it’s too quiet
The crystal stands, itself, lost in the crowd.