Composing Destiny

I dream poetry; I breathe poetry, for poetry calls your name, feeling your inerrant essentia— your soul bleeds into mine— a collision of cosmos, diffused magnetically, once a vagrant in a haze of miasmic vapors—wildered and exposed— you unshackled me from this purgatory; inversely immersing me in your sphere of solace, and blooming artistry, lulling the vast polarities splintering each layer of my veracity. I dream poetry, for your love drizzles burgeoning constellations, amid rosette sepals galvanizing my orphic nuclei, with every spark we sigh, tethered to the infinite composition of our unwavering love compellingly, beyond heaven and earth, devoted to you— your fallen star; no longer silent, circling nocturne arias entwining our destiny.