Our nonchalant day came with a mosaic sounding, to a midnight fast, of those embedded eyes, tracery in a solitude to one, in priceless thoughts, rounding sincerity, the puzzlement of my disparage. I have discard remittance as midnight swell, awoke to my speckled gems, devotion was a needless altitude, so falling was the placement of secondary worlds, incomplete they should revive the number before a, minute to hold sombre the blossom, discarding when nutrition became whole.

Encasing gems of contentment, freefalling to a tell of softly placed pastries, bees bumble, and the wistful-fall was a midnight oceans, to a buoyantly puff of a mushroom hearth. Their mosaic gems brightly fuelled, land bequeathed to sail a setting sun, gentle cards placed to you, falling an instant starrynight, wishing those lovers farewell.

2023 Adam Blewett ©