"A novel idea stems from an original sin" - Esme, An exercise in buddy breathing, Asphyxia that gripsya, Don't pop, For the benefit of Mr Kite., Largifical lungs, to enter your sleep as it's smooth dark wave., Waiting for inspiration., within one's favourite darkness lies one's favourite half-light
I’m holding my breath
Till the cows come home,
My eyes are widening fast.
The beat of my heart is a thunderous roar,
Will the die ever be cast?
My teeth are clenched
And my stomach a stone,
And I’m sure I’ll be here forever.
A metaphysical marvel for aeons to come,
A victim of being too clever.
For the rhymes and chimeras,
That fatten the pages,
And maketh this charmed odyssey,
See morrows all shrouded on happenstance waves;
An ocean of me and of thee.
My cockles are soaring,
Simpatico it reigns,
Two rosy cheeks now turning blue;
I’m waiting for the cows to come home you see,
I’m waiting in stasis for you.