Tender curves of mirthful bliss is missing from your lips. They are lost when i am present. Inadequate judge on a pastor’s stand, like mother eagle who keeps her eggs warm, they do not hatch.
Your doors are closing, as I am insufficient. I am used to this, though still as new as first heat on a snowflake morning. On misty windows I draw lines, misty windows disappear in time.
Oh how it feels like I’ve met hard ice snow, I write in assumptions, I write with a photographic caption.
Where was I heading with this? I have forgotten. Forgive and forget, my nature will leave me bruised and clawed.