Amidst the flurry of ignited responsibilities, you are distant, I am safe. Why do I feel invaded when. Colors. Cut. Down. My. Throat. You broadcast; I abhor. I cuddle myself in warm swamps of molten dreams and dread and expectations-exquisite to the skin, aberrant to the vision. There is comfort in this gesture of aquainting oneself besides the usual redundancy of well-meaners like us.
***
Plagiarized restrospection; something unforgivable to the deeply -lodged persona. Loosely-remembered by the menial self. No time for that, want to be lonely? Wince once, wince twice. No, never. Time to ogle magnified satisfactions. The load less revelled by Mr. Frost-bitten.
***
One branch, two branch, three branch, four. Why did she take the back door? Five, six, pick up sitcks, your head now enjoying major flicks. Seven, eight, lay them straight. My girl, you have just taken the bate.
***
I wish I could just take in what you have to offer.
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