neutrally, our fresh hot teas both flushed light gold
hours previously. More recently we
clawed earnestly as lamsters from the heat, then
built up, or razed a few statues of trust
the components of which include vague sorts of zen.
It is an ignoble honor to know your nadir
and sap up your dulcetest moans as I can,
denying no natures which plague us. I penned
you a poem about Lovers, it was panned
by intoxication and indifference.
But you please me, I think, and when offered more drink
you accepted with slippery, rose gaucherie
Not bound by heuristic, nor wounded by pride
In this way, the mawkishly wideeyed entreat