A deprivation of the feel, one void of conscious motivation
The lips of a flatterer at her mercy seat
Emotionally drunk, the new era of the hen-hearted
If looks could kill
Love is a magician, she makes one thing new under the sun
Eyes rolling to her direction
Her glance is sufficient to freeze the heart
Thoughts not in one piece, the pen feeble and rusty
The love tunes in my head, hopes that it is a misrepresentation
Love was meant to be my foe
I thought myself rooted in prelapsarian, but then
To be shot dead by a love hate emotional revolver
To have smiled at a considered anathema, the pickle in my arteries.
The chemistry is too complicated, if only she could serve as succour
No doubt she is as perfume, all hopers crave for her sandalwood.
One love plus four or no love for one, I demur
Every step out is an inch inside love’s pool
The ineptitude at propelling in water, the fall in love.
Were it be a chance to seek an injunction, is love not the court?
My diaries have gone too personal, the detail is but one but
Is this puppy love or one true love?
The heart is not at peace
It used to walk with grace but is now curious as a cat
The undefined — the story of my state of mind
It is emotional buffering
Certainty is a sought after, clearity is merry.
With kids glove will she be handled while
i search for inner serenity.