The platform bristles, primal aggregates, passage.
It was the vaguest of murmurs
like the blush of an areola on awakening.
The wide hearse of your body
swallows my etiolating gaze,
a zenith obsequious in the dark.
My heart lost, scours the tables,
the narcissistic nightshade traipsing
from mantel to windowsill and back again
despite my expressed concern.
Love is strange and grand.
I stand here fading, bracing
praying silently for a delay,
a glint of your mad, keeling grin
to peel back and say I’ll stay.
Not sure why I wrote the poem in this form. Anyhow I have included a picture so you can see the room. I didn’t even know Sam was taking pictures because I was vacuuming hence it being visible. You can also sort of see our X-mas tree which honestly went up on the 20th! I know, know but the painting. You can also see Sam’s feet didn’t bother to stand I suppose haha The room had to be disorganized a bit for the sake of the tree. Sam did all the stenciling and decided on colors and everything. This was his room to design. All furniture currently is hand me downs.