Prismatic Shift

Manhattan's avenues wear an indigo shroud,

Companions vaping privately away from the crowd.

They lecture that genuine devotion's a cell That grants liberation...

which nobody can spell!

And every attendee here glimmers with ease— A talent that never quite

came with my keys!

Yet endlessly picturing syllables spun Whenever your voice has just begun...

You are lightning igniting my velvet attire!

Your moniker sets all my senses on fire!

I'm a runaway vehicle stripped of its clutch,

Craving your presence past sensible touch!

I'm a figurine sculpted from softening grease,

Fraying like cotton that begs for release!

Totally dizzy, delightfully wrecked,

Adoring you more than a verse could protect!

Strolling the greenery, posture erect,

Dodging the revelers, keeping in check.

If heaven exists, it's the invisible twine Binding your wandering spirit to

mine. Hours of solitude,

skipping repast, Slumbering clothed in heels built to last.

Too timid to utter the visions I trace Whenever your phantom embraces

my space...

Every midnight duplicating the prior,

Dreaming from twilight till dawn climbs higher!

Unshakably certain, profoundly convinced,

Nobody's ever desired a prince!

Impossible truth that I refuse to dismiss,

Claiming your loyalty sealing with this: Hand on my chest as the

promise is sworn, No greater yearning was ever born!

And I love you beyond what a melody frames.

Absolute lexical sovereignty.

Absolute rebirth.

Tara, Captain Quinn, and the hyper-tuned

crew.