A fever creeps, and with its heat my lust is shaken. I’m confounded, for want of love and need for affection.
Nearly breathless I walk, working thoughts, managing tasks, and subduing a bigger desire to run rampant as I find myself ageless and all of it’s unnecessary.
That undone I undress alone, left for memories of something better. That I left behind, and all I never said but relished, my feelings high subdued beside the remaining wisps of feeling unconventional.
To live for me, and never want of someone else what they do not offer.
These dreams in loud rendition cloisters and so I act. A fantasy lived and my hope’s restored. As only I can control my humor.
As nothing is too late save for acting, for loving the very best thing.
