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By coujeaux Date: 2004 Feb 02 Comment on this Work [[2004.02.02.22.13.29227]] |
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Maelstrom me unto the censure, passive fissure 'tween sliceblade argument of yea, nay; will? Caressing with finite fingertips endless interrogatives that confuse a stubborn mind better still. Judged within corridors of customary thought I would seem confused or even greedy; perhaps, If you wake to the eyes of one forever familiar, they mandate your concentration will not lapse. Past nights of attempted sanctity became whispers of fare thee unwell, bitter salutations galore, Where once tongues decorated another with compassionate mixture they pare us into our core. Seal my lip of agonizing detail I see this passageway of nativity; to be comfortable in their arms, Sweet respite from pitchblack anonymous goodbyes to a sunlight's rise, move to fresher charms. In a moment of reflection, see us as suitable for the occasion; proper the accessory, so it's worn, Acknowledgment between the man and maidens fair that once no longer in fashion, off we're torn. Yet never in morning after conversations have I heard such superlatives to my character or skills, Show me one so saturated with self-respect to ignore complimentary, I retort their cup overspills. Their smiles meet my denials, twin bass to my treble, dual ladyrhythmic now redefining my song, Alluring me each moment I retreat in protective haste; it's not the melody but that you sing along. I've asked of this generosity, questioned accommodation; I, never before so lucky or felt so freed, They leave me to reconsider so many absolutes I once thought sacred I'm now unsure of my need. To his, the unerring eye it seems a question of why; upon each of their faces is said stay right here, Perhaps will come the day when you decide to fade away; let us rapture onward to spite such a nadir. |