Prodigree 1

Roads of gold and gates of pearl are thoughts solidified, finding resting place here, having been purified, first, in a trial by fire- in the bulwarked organ of love's pineal desire. Here. Hyssop, Catmint and Cinnamomum share her spirit animal, with makeshift technicality, borrowed by her scent of purity. The pervasiveness of jasmine in the air in ulterior beguilement the enstylement of my drive. You are a banshee on the side of deserted highway, a shiver of creep peaking near as I take a leak there. A light orbing the mountains and darting into the sea. A 4D shadow cast upon 3D tolemetry of space and time and think. Was your curtsey before God pleasing? Your arguments for my torment convincing? An Elemental in a ballet of playthings. O Ballerina of Love's rhetorical spectre, boomerings-like crowns wearing. Dancing in shadows, whispering in the night, You ignite a fire, called daylight, to show your darings. But your love is fleeting, a melancholic melody, of eel. Leaving my heart in perpetual reverie, I yearn for your touch, your tender embrace of feel. Every graceful sway, every delicate step, a conjugal congeal, captures the essence of a love deep at my core deficiency appeals. In twirling pirouettes, passion's heart is kept, and in arabesques, emotions start to weep whispers as I sleep in Elysian fields of milkweed and lobelia and nightshade, chin on window cill. Mesmerized by the Amber waves of your influence, One hundred percent times two in-stilled.