untitled (so far)


You think of me as

All those vagabond years

But I'm a lover
A sophisticate

I know the solitude
Of loving

and I loathe existing

under pressure,
of our caliber

Consider it a spectrum
Of aspirations

I had to abandon those stale goals

what they expect,
What we dream

Extract the available enchantments
Over our heads

from everyone else’s adequate plot

I found a shimmering story