Although, Grey Eyes - Poem by K.C. Wassner
You tremble at a loss of words,
your never-filtered gaze won't breach
the ill-conceived realities
that always overstep your reach.
With murderously erotic goals
that box you in, for to confess,
but I, by playing different games,
do under-mind your outwardness.
This silly dance is far too long,
as both are seeking different things,
a role-reversal all along,
progress until nothing remains.
Yet still, I push for greater means,
for you, of you, I wish too much,
shattered am I by this plateau
that I have reached as such.
Ignoring all the solid walls
(of chemistry and social sense) ,
we continue this charade
of borderline incompetence.
Then all at once, I am undone,
a fleet-less thought, epiphany,
destroyed by notions of what's done
my soul, a black cacophony.
Needless to say, I'm not staying for breakfast
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