I’m hovering over you because you’re over me.
Your shadow is a lurking creep and I swear it’s to keep me in the age of ancient time.
Sweet forces of bliss pantomimed.
In my heart and my conscious mind.
Addressing the tribulations of my alienated vocal dimension – I beckon to be heard.
Through a lover like you, with a season of passion and a river of mention.
To be carried under your umbrella of comfort, I plead for the rain to shower.
Just to be felt by your grasp, only a little more, and I’ll be closer into the pondering of your mind.
Comforted by the sweet walls of your thoughts.
These scales of recognition are trailing marks of your interest to me.
Your ideas carved with me in sound.
Breathlessly my own sequence of words is captured in the engaging glare.