Your influence is a confluence
of corruption and charm.
The touch of your words and cobalt pen;
Unavoidably amending
the harm of my negligence.
You are magic, murmurs, and mania.
So by consequence, I am liable in your presence,
to be irresponsible and irreverent of the dawn.
Rambling without regard or phobia.
Every other sentence smoldering and spawning
asides irrelevant but heartfelt.
Every other gaze awe inspired and struck
between strings of stars and random tracks.
A skipped beat
only a finger stroke away.
A way to allay the pain,
in a heart which lacks,
with just one more refrain.
Just one more replay
of gyroscopic hails from the chorus.
Shush now.
Let us forget what they told us,
as hands and hips embrace abandon,
in hours bewitched and emboldened;
By the next sip.
the next song.
the next secret spoken in silence:
Of cardiac violence.
Of caresses somewhat missed.
Of a weight on a precipice.
Threatening all avalanche.
To be buried beneath
memories, manuscripts, and sin?
A demise, half-welcomed.
Yet still unsure of how to begin.
© C.J. Lightbourn 2015