Strangled by intellectual postulation. Unnerved by a distant glance passing me by, by happenstance.
Or be it fate? That we play in a toybox of oddities glimmering like shimmering light off that lake we used to go?
I never can tell nor know of any significant clue. I only ponder, play, elaborate and demonstrate.
Wandering amongst longing. Lustful desires peak under the covers. What is it to be alive?
That burning, yearning, dripping question.
Fascinated by wild lit eyes, suns within fields of cosmic night. Flashing me their glances, flitting emotion bubbles to the surface.
Billowing out these sheets do rupture, exploding torment be thy maker. Invention waiting in the cellar; door wide open, invitation opened and shut case.
Rumbling Earth, shattering sky, I sometimes curl up and cry. Feeling Earth's pain, or but a taste as the full embrace would rend me from this existence.
Out like a light. It burnt too bright and extinguished my heart.
Goodnight.
