Softness Or Vertigo? Poem by Ayni Poet

A hand rolling beige satin gloves
On the arms of a youthful soul,
Energized by the exhilarating currents
Discharged through life's chiffon arteries.

Taught to judge quickly
And look with a finical sight,
To touch rather with scissors
Instead of charmeuse palms,
It lives in dizziness and misperception,
Engrossed to raise iron shields
To defend the "I".

An earlobe prone to dip
Into loud, unrefined sounds
Of a sour egotistic world
Stretched to its deviant, atrocious extremes,
Corrupts and mutilates
Its innate, most resplendent flair
The divine reflex of softness,
A number one, essential trait,
The finesse of Being.