Tread softly,
Tread carefully...

Beneath the sheets ----
between the s i g h s of dreamers...

`
reflective sclera expose stories...

---
this ripe, fair skin...

-
time, a hand too soon...

Collapsible;
A stage with...

Pure sorrow looming as a brawny cloud,
Beneath skin crawling hints of resignation...

I am a modern sonnet,
penned by a modern punk...

Three eyes meet in the midst of many;
One never sleeping, yet always blinking...

Holding hands, caressing nights, fervent hearts,
What we had seemed perfect from the very start...

What scattered thoughts there are,
in the flutter of their wings...

The morning tastes stale in my mouth as I inhale,
Slowly opening my weary eyes to the new world...