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She's always misplacing.
Feeling for new incongrunces
I try to be pragmatic, & feel for her supple fingers.
These are the parameters of an injured human being.
A prosaic heart, A tenuous mind.  
I have fallen into the pit of her idiosyncrasies.
A man on a mission seeking to breathe & expand my spirit into her lungs.
Her nature corrupts my own,
And like a troglodyte,  I disperse my emotions into a prism.
A prism that is now full of turmoil & suspicion.
Oh wonderful, wonderful you..

— The End —