ASTRAL WET


Senses turned addicts,
The smell, mien and the need.
Lo! There's he held, -
While around, afar or unseen.,
Swear oneself witnesseth
Not a marvel as one.
An inch ain't driven,
To ponder and sojourn.

Onset was when
A fortnight to come, -
Of ardour and stance
For a moment of glance!
A cry in tranquil
To sketch the gloss,
Imprisoned thyself
In a silvered shelf!

Prepped a few verbs,
Rehearsed, all set.,
Aware yet curtailed, -
Posed his best bet.
Of years long pursuit
To seize thy silhouette,
An yard's reach has slain angst
There he lies astral wet...

Supernova Poems (US4AK) ©®

14:11
3 June 2018

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