Breakfast.

In paling gloom, dust filled skies,
when her lipstick beams like fireflies
heaviness glances across these times,
within words and hapless rhymes.
Truer lines havent been said since,
In which she hurts and I evince
for forth in affirming, attraction
harmless talks and then inaction.
Abandon all musings, sallow as your
shallow thoughts that ruminate;
for thoughts are solitary, dispirited,
and against her slow love, outwitted.

Miniature.

Much alike her best kept secret
and well within her sudden reach;
till she next wrecks herself again
on words that stammer into speech.

And it isn't much, I contend, alas
but some talk shall evermore, be futile;
as inebriation lives a stone's throw away
with common people that make one rile.

Pliant.

One discerned climate change,
whilst the other resolv'd to stay;
because when vacant and free,
you cease to exist, simultaneously.

Trees in swamps get quickly dated,
as wet mud steadily gets cultivated;
crustaceans go scared and supplicate,
for only does their venereal satiate.

For only does history speak
when theres need for sympathy
For poets which make verse of stories
less their macabre 'comes cacophony.

And at the end of a day
I'm not better than all I say;
doing unto them what's not right
sadistic pleasure, gratification, delight.
But even in archaic thoughts I select
they are aligned to not intersect, with Poe's.

For my subtle thoughts are congenial;
less profound, grotesque and unreal.
And in these thoughts lies her grudge
awash in slit and mire, lost in deluge.

Ribbon.

Quarter to five, early morn
as curtains debate cessation
And you'd reappear in lieu,
a figment of imagination.
Once cafard, you'd proceed, to
recite shades of glum poetry.
And I'd listen to it being read
that written for you by me.
As within these verses lies, what
would've otherwise been said
ideally, lust and ideally, love;
but its not an ideal world now, is it?

Wellaway.

O'er ze seas and far away,
archaic in sparsely clouded skies.
Whence parched oceans emerge,
athwart endlessly spread times.

Asked to move thither
stood alow. somedeal similar.
Us shalt eventually depart,
with thou upon clumsy feet.

The twain of us will not know
when left thole alone.
Mayhap us will soon realize,
with askance and thereon.

Constricted in this strait, thus
this sweven that leads us.

With this dit calculating dol
I shalt stretch, cometh pain.
Pretension to wisdom thee seek
in hist, you feign the fain.

Quietus.

A misnomer in reckoning, so subtly demeaning;
Architect to the tale, her story to regale.
Diction in introspection, to a miniscule section;
Willingly, she's unclear, in helpless insomnia.

Syntax filled with quotes, she shifts back and forth;
Tragedy loses the rest, she speaks with disinterest.
The anchor soon runs riot, lying pale in disquiet;
Placid at her own rate, disposition thats sedate.

She musters the strength, to discuss those events;
That mean not much to me, yet I'd listen quietly.
Her story is slow as chess, a damsel in distress;
My reaction to her scent, never was a consort so eloquent.

A bit efferent despite, what may numb delight;
I muster some sense, stalemate ends in offense.
Becomes bathed to rid, unsettled and insipid;
No novelty in telling, the story thats selling.

Prosaic and affably quaint, she tends to repeat again;
Nonchalance in vain, a sentient picture she paints.
My dutiful movement aside, she still lies beside;
Her speed appears to slows, as she clambers below.

Now, in defining sudden gasps, she speaks;
Sodden since evening, I stare in eerie disbelief.
Lifelessness I'll heave, of the conte she weaved;
Her lips dry and fade, faint in mutual disrespect.

I offer suggestion, deadpan with grim expression;
Moistening her purple chin, I intrude deeper within.
Last few words in fact, help slip wooden this final act;
Becoming finally innate, she whispers 'checkmate'.

Dissonance.

As simple as it could get in words
we never like what we are subject to.
An abject situation in essence
falter, fade in my dissonance.

Now those who had to walk, walked
in pale skies shrouded by talk.
And then those that stayed whispered
to those who had been bygones, again.
In this enchanting script of melancholy lies
why should we wait in tumultuous times?

Frantic diction prescribed in inscription
she knows I wont be coming home so soon.
And then those who had dressed and left
return because when they did try to revert,
their lips jeopardized every sentence,
while I scribble ardor in my dissonance.

The question that remains is such,
that it neglects all in sudden rush.
And those who did derive penance
are now glued in my dissonance.

Now, the rest is prelude to the next exit
when all love shall cease to exist.
Whence shall arise a need to leave
subdued in pain and certain harmony.
Polished tones in tune with life
a little drama, total nonchalance alright.

But it is true when it hits, shades of excess
to all that we have been unfortunate to witness.
Its that gloom which permeates through
but only if she had been better than you.

And those who did evoke a naked smile
are eroded in malevolent demise;
while those who did regain some sense
are further lost in my dissonance...

Since.

because it were the april skies
because we ran out of wine
because there was no mood
because we were declined.
because you stayed awake
because i could well aubade
because i don't remember you
because you've begun to fade.

Ebony.

This cynic, insect, an anti-septic;
dispirited, her glum perspective.
The face, she slowly turns indigo,
despondent, awash in snow.
And like immature, separated lovers,
fit inside wrappers and covers.
Idle without an intention to win;
inept in talk, sharing mutual chagrin.
Because some letters are sent
without a need for prior consent,
and in twilight, drizzle, and dew;
It's not just the ash, she's its residue

A Little Step.

When ardor spills over all,
things for which we cared and
you skip, simper, and coquet
as spoils willingly get shared.
A tinge of chariness, albeit
incomplete seconds of bliss
with a vague shade of cynicism
that stays too hard to miss.
Shamanistic, it blinds, fetters an
unsuccessful attempt to involve
what in efficacy became effete,
resolve hemmed in, an insect.