Circumferential

Fictitious soap bubbles
Travel in innocuous
Elliptical orbits
Hosting homeostasis
Of love’s statistics
Labeled as magic;
Layers of collected
Dust and grime
Thinly coat and veil,
Covering the mysteries
Of incomprehensible interactions
Of misconceived utterances
Of deciphering sensibilities
Of those intuitively deemed
Attractive.

Is it romantic,
Or is it curiosity,
Fueled by
Semantics;
Beauty;
Is passion’s ending,
In the loss of interest.

What of general
Secondary
Romances.

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Pretending to be Blind

They come in orbits
Of discarded eye sockets
Of cauterised bleeding runs;
Silent pleas of morbidity.
Plagues of infected victims
Leading lonely loveless lives
Simultaneously scream sardonically.
Vitals vieled vicariously
Through thorough theatrics
Of obvious oblique offenses
Taken from lines of informality.

While the forces of projectile
Vomit spray chunked particles
Of intent, sown in cautioned words,
Disregarded or seen as flexible,
Discontented perforated holes
Miss infrared tracking missiles
Locked on to no beginnings;
Guarded walls of inflexibility;
That hateful order.

Stained hands keeping
It in its trajectory,
Pretending to be blind
To the possibilities.