Meridian

humidity
wet earth
evergreen

Elixir-perfume

Sun-heat
salutary breeze
amaranthine sky

Contented exhaustion.

Scintillating moment.

Concrete ubiety.

Adore-serene.

Will you come again?

Inopportune Independence

Adamant, strong, rigid:
The Vacillator.

Vulnerable, exposed, denuded:
The Boy.

Artfully crafted,
Abominably crippled.

Power:

My Tormentor.
My Lover.
My Friend.

Disillusioned Enchantement

So a day in time passed where i finally felt like some part of this definition of adulthood might apply to me.

On my birthday my mother says in passing:

"Don't be a pessimist." - Serious tone, concerned expression-

The dual translation shooting out of her head being that i shouldn't become a bitter hag (note: her pause to look at Power) especially not in front of the man I'm sleeping with.

I ignore the archaic nuances and reply:

"I am not a pessimist. I am a realist.
I don't want to submerge myself in escapism."

Enters thought:

~No, I simply want to complain incessantly about the people who do~

Lightbulb.

Action-Reaction

Hi.
You ever have a moment where you know ur face is revealing what a dork you are.
You are not jaded, cool, and and emotionless.
You are not passionately subsided.
You are simply a reaction to an action;
an endless pool of waves;
a blank canvass filled in by the moment,
encompassing a web of associations;
moments of the past,
desires of the future.

Anyways,
So i am pretty much riding the wave.
Not going towards anything,
not moving away from anything.
And it's kind of nice, kind of boring,
kind of driving me nuts.

I like you, But I Don't Miss You When You're Gone

Shield: scratched and tarnished by the indignities of foreign tongue.

Subsistence: warm outer layer, adamantine core.

Emaciated heat,

My erection cools.

The Buisness of Breathing

There has to be a point to all this madness.
And if the point is the madness; that sparks and dies
And the spark is it
and the death is it
Then the moment is only good while it lasts
Because everything fades and is forgotten with time.

Scintilla

Peachy colored wall, peeling paint.
Red earthy gravel, stained white door frame.
An open doorway, an impartial darkness.

This is where things end.
This is where things begin.

Finite moment, infinite impression.