Contours Cyhydedd Fer Sonnet

Contours make a fool of your eyes, shadows smile wearing a disguise. Split-second metamorphosis, too quick to ever reminisce. That alabaster train floating, the gal with her sweetheart doting. What was it I thought I just saw? Blink and miss nature in the raw. Paint-drops on the world around us, broken polish will cause a fuss. Shivering when they juxtapose, a mirage of silhouettes grows. With the Earth’s rotating vision blurry lines find their precision.