No good intentions at heart, places and strange things
Lost in devine sighs of my mysterious ways to pave paths to your viscus, a firm rather dry variety meat my words touch.
The locus of feelings and intuitions, probe to the wounds you poke, egos provoked, people can hear a smile in your voice, speak up & say it proud not loud, share the energy, dramaturgy, a new page , a new story, on a different stage, reciting my last page.
This ain’t me running,
Quitting while ahead is not just quitting,dissemination of my actions against you accruing to you.
Enshrined values of a passive demeanour, selfless met selfish, ego stroked as I apologise on what you did, treat you floury, refined in presence defied in a baffling talk over absence & intention, complaints over actions in perception.
I have made mistakes, they weigh down on me, & sometimes I wish they would, it’s scary I know, it scares you to. Tonight I speak through my eyes and catch whoever gets my language of silence, resilient to actions in exchange, persistent reactions of an angel coming my way.
Night fell , the sun slept, no birds chipping & the only sound be of you moaning without bemoaning, intonate my spoken word into an interlude verse of action one feels within with every stroke, my guitar plays notes that lead into love when that was not the intention.