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Lima Yankee Delta India Alpha

 

Untitled sheet of my Sterling note;

First page, yet here I am succumbing myself to the 13th.

Deep down, I admire it―

the torn pages, the Bibliosmia.

Sitting my knees atop the glass table,

same as my age

as my aunt boasts.


There is she:

Wallowing in her floral Coach;

Skittles on the palm of her hands,

Collective memories from assorted flavors―

Strawberries, cherries, lychees.

From pain, swollen teeth can be treated by 

'06 bills. For the clowns of the 7th birthday,

she had administered every balloon.

My laughs, my smiles, my gratitude;

To reach my manhood

so does my search for fortitude.


From candies to bitter taste of my every sweat,

Shivering thoughts of your person.

Embodying silence is my response to Lady ego;

long before I speak my relief,

your pain is seconds ahead.

As I seek my spring, you breathe my winter.

From your weaved peach sweater

to my distorted better.


Woman whom I admire, 

Woman whom I stare at,

with shut lips, shut eyes

I knead your back,

I need your luck.


Luscious Lindt Lindor, disguise my temper;

Be gentle to my masked presence.

Light is my Alpha, 

I run with my insistency, overlooking Omega.

Dancing Tango and Salsa for a classic view―

showing my signature walks. 

Backwards toward this house I wander,

only to impede myself.

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