feed the beast,
it grows.
too easy,
to lose.
thoughts,
they wander.
(my) reflection,
your eyes.
your reticence,
matches mine.
never lingered,
perilous.
strangely attractive -
such mysterious aloofness.
wrapping my head round
this gentle leap,
this unavailing skip
of my own heart beat.
a little more gauche,
a less redolent sonata,
and desire,
the sooner siphoned.
yet, the hardest logic remains.
a third entity to pique my interest -
seriously, genes?
compromised, much?
good thing,
nothing could come out of this.
perhaps then i could afford to be a little more indulgent,
and feed this little beast of mine a little more,
just so i can continue to be amused (at myself, mostly).
after all, there's simply no way i can lose in this.
this fish that dreamt a world away,
surely has no qualms in her most recent imagining.
