Being rather taken with the idea of you,
a restless violet lighting upon the tongue
which, immutable with the thunder of love
and unabashed scorn, lets loose a rumble
which smacks of butterflies screaming
in March's softly developing belly,
I am consumed by new concrete abstractions

This very idea tickles my beehive mind
Incontrovertible with the tease of logic,
insidious in the portent of a Phoenix dive
which my heart deigns over prospects
of another night spent in the chill silence,
and innocuous in the design of intellects dawn
birthing the reminder that warmth is a horizon,
one finds truth to be perpetual in renewal

I feel new, to be with you again,
for, finding something left distant upon grey strands
stretching tentatively along the oceanside-
my name, which was reinvented in tragic triumph,
so has been lost the complexity of its contrivance