you think of me when clocks are near your morning fingertips and sheets are tangled in between your legs shanghaied firmly on the other side of the bed you think of me when the keyboard is clicking your dives and highs in rapid fire promises of infamy. you think of me decorating your tree with brilliant adjectives and hyperboles star struck on powdery gauge strings harbored with silvery emotional anchors I think of you in the caliginous corners of my reposing eyes at dawn’s commencement- waiting for the email ping on my phone I think of you creating rules abeyant to your whim and heart as you telepathically and mechanically direct me to call you I think of you when I’m in need of your wisdom - modernism – literary philosophy to finely dress my infatuation in steadfast haute couture until the next heady investment I love the mystery and wonder why your actions speak differently than your unspoken fears? your honesty, while admirable, is a consternation to my knowing better the introspection keeps all of the kites prominently up-swept
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