What's this?
Quaint gestures
shooting clever smirks my way?
Waves of stealthiness crashing
against my humble tide?
Effortlessly composed riddles
that teeter the edge of justified prose?...
My tethered and weathered,
braced and re-laced vocabulary
stumbes shyly at your feet.
I'm clutching my frayed knuckles,
crumpling the same ideals time
and again...
You spit out puzzled delicacies
with confident daily pattern,
while I lull in prosaic unconsciousness-
sheer poetic ignorance.
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