The resemblance of her presence can't be contained in this sentence,
Her smirking play of wording affirmed the remnants of a dentist,
The empathy underneath her myelin sheath echoed the pulling of teeth,
Henry David Thoreau couldn't even mistletoe be-underneath.
I ineffectively fawned over how she represented herself intellectually,
Though her premise of me chasing coitus, denied my loving demisexually,
Not that we'd yet had the mass of chitchat genuinely warranting that,
I confess to being less possessed of the strength to stifle romance.
She seemed detached. Our exactitude and humor proved the good match,
My eyes still find her photo, though her smoothness embodies the scratch,
I think the reality of this peak of geeky mystique is unlikely unique,
It's less than fun to fall for each one and accumulate the loss streak.
Maybe the relevant content of being triumphant is the art of the sentiment,
Part and parcel of being an arsehole would be being harmfully arrogant,
That the contenders are occasional & singular, merely cries for an overhaul,
Take an emotional bath, and like a polymath, climb upon the ball.
It's an unthinkable principle, but my motivation needs to be reciprocal,
That emotion affirms reason, while logic confirms art, is of itself critical,
Soliciting an implicit hierarchical dominance would decry of a difference,
By unifying each aspect of the mind they'll become each other's complements.
No comments:
Post a Comment