Literature
Obviously
I promenade through passages Of crusted, concrete memory And revel in plasticity The silent, satin shackle That binds my heart absurdly Ingratiates my privacy Our mutual psychoses, Festooned in stately pageantry Liberates my lethargy In tilted shades of Symmetry I relish, Apoplectically Moments squandered Recklessly—void of Needed harmony I languish—faded Aimlessly Intent on inane, Ecstasy