you are a word inside some
labarynthine sentence and
somewhere inside you there
is a meaning for something inside
me, a serpentine posing as a
simple turn of phrase that keeps
turning and turning
winding in and out of
a momentous hesitance for
which we both breathe-

inside our forms,
our bodies are constructed from
carefully controlled cadences
that create rhythm and motion
more than meaning and emotion;
we create these within ourselves
to each their own which is why i
am reading you over, noting that
you do not break
you do not stop
you do not breathe but for a brief moment
when you meander too far from the standards of syntax
and examine the meaning of everything you've been saying
and trying to understand it before you're
whisped away into nothing by
me
a break in thought which
winds its way through your
innermost meanings;
much more am i a thief of love,
less so am i revealing.

Less so am i revealing
as i spend such time stealing
usurping as a serpintine
slithering so silently
stealthy as the sneaky
words that make you
wonder late at night
your heart your only light
hidden away from view
yet in all your hiding
there's hoping that here
there will be someone spying
secretly dying to see the shining
light lighting your heavy-hearted
wordplay you pray that someone
will see your secret
and i the serpentine have found
but will not keep it
because for all my twists
and turns of phrase
the soul inside's seen better days
and lonesome as it is
the happiness haphazardly
stands defenseless to the
beating of the fleeting beats
and the feeling too is fleeting

which is why you'll find me
winding through your innermost feelings
for much more am i a thief of love
less so am i revealing.

06/22/2006

Author's Note: more wordplay.

Posted on 06/22/2006
Copyright © 2024 Andrew S Adams