love loss unrealized


atomic execution of the dimension we call daily
assails me through lamellar phases of reality
accountability beckoning for redemptive hypallage
doubtful curls prepared in toot sweet hyperbole

then it occurs to me

maybe I’m not living a fantasy

an existential transaminase of what happens trans-sonically
but silently undeniably beyond rationality
so casually detached

or am I just an erotomaniac
my heart a stellarator
of intuitive fusion
un-serviced

my enlightened conciousness imbibes honesty unabashed
proffer me this integrity as I teeter precariously
swinging trapeze
true to two meanings
denying that I am nothing more than fodder
effectuated as eye candy
then pitied for my thin veneer