The affected chapters of your face
shapeshifting in the wake of morning’s settlement
are the avatars of my own world’s self-assessment
leafed through in conscientious stares that coagulate
into a pause to rival the most stubborn
fossil lounging in the monolithic capsule of
its stoic stone casing
The awareness of our senses swimming
in the glue of mutual emotions immobilize
my belief in an immortal history
and slot my lidded stars into your iridescent
constellations of an adamant transition
from a raining midnight countenance
to a smiling catalogue of sundogs sheepishly
extracted from recycled lashes of resolve
You’re a missionary in a land of verbicide
preaching your exultant cohesion
to disheveled models of sincerity
I loitered like an unemployed apprentice around
your presence’s array of healing methods
spanning sentiments and comfort zones and touches
until apprenticeship subsided and we were aligned in
the intentions of our keen respective visions
and a pair of knowing non-expressions were
snuffed out by the magnetic latch of cotton-textured lips
ratifying an evasive universe of two
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stevenfortunepoet 