Do you feel it when Your mind is drifting to Someone other than The one you’re talking to? I ignore it as often As I think I can possibly do But do you realize the space Captured in my head by you? I know not what to call this It’s breathable and new. I do not want to spoil this Fearing what it’ll turn into. The paranoia of losing it Is what I’ve already grown into. Conservative, feeble, shy? Call me whatever you want to.
Flummoxed, In labyrinths of Baleful forests with eyes of gibbet makers and buried undertakers. In gloaming sights, hobbling towards the light. The silver teeth of obeisance sundering will, plundering peace, blazoning smiles of malicious beings.
The feeble glow of yesterday's myths and illogical legends drift into obliquity where the pallid shapes of old friendships and silhouettes of demented heads merge with a splash of light on the satirical side of solemnity in the pursuit of profundity.