I've collected the scraps of clumsy words from my sketchbook scrawlings. They have been adding up very slowly. Some are unfinished (and will surely remain so).



What the heart wants,
Another cannot sate.
Our timing is misaligning,
But you are worth the wait.
Our daily rite must suffice.

A new sense of satisfaction,
Instilled underneath,
A correct motion,
A reach that grasps,
Plead that it not slip,
I can feel it between my fingers,
Light and lithe,
As I wished, it was delivered,
 Persuaded by the possibility,
Practicing patience,
In a tiresome torment.

A flushing face,
Desirious delight,
A voice so vivacious,
A genuine heart,
Introductory in incandescence,
A handsome hero,
drawn from ideality,
Fluency in conversation,
You take the lead.

A descent in desire,
The fire does die,
Left with a shred of hope,
The hype could heighten,
I contest for clarity,
Muffled by my nerves
To see you observant,
So far to fall,
Assess the individual,
Is he content to coast?

 I think I’ll always be,
Shadowed by misery,
Relentlessly it hunts me,
A battle in loneliness,
Imbued by rhythmic affliction.