well and good,
and in among
the thickened wood,
he so thought he hung
the very moon;
and kept discov'ring;
excavating,
~~~~~~
plying layers,
finding faults
in every single thing
she did
~~~~~~
and he was fully culpable
but never truly accountable,
there;
glistening...
surface gloss,
~~~~~~
never listening
to all the loss
that we was causing;
~~~~~~
sheltered
by the shadow
of his own
enormous ego...
~~~~~~
with painted leaves that stuck
to his discerning palate;
pretense far beyond the reach
of any
stated common reason;
~~~~~~
regret belies the undercurrent
surging there
as if to speak of treason;
no, not ever satified
by any;
not even she in fullest season...
~~~~~~
logic undefined,
and her sweet ardor
shunned;
a countenance so deft;
refined
~~~~~~
captive...
never captivated by
his controlling
overbearing eye...

Copyright (c) 2005 Jeff Mason