Nearby places, familiar faces.
Causal smiles, concealed eyes.
Glances taken, still unseen.
Whom is this beautiful stranger.
Book in hand.
Ebony magazine, popular mechanics.
A thought shone under the bright dull light.
I took note contrasting in theory.
Thinking in color, far from black and white.
Nearby places, the throb of gentle hearts.
Familiar faces, the thought of her persisted.
As the blood that flowed through my veins.
The noises made from paper hearts
Laying still against flat surfaces.
A Predictable response to inherent actions.
Deluded in premature voodoo.
The knowledge of eyes seeking to be found.
The astrology of religion.
A testament shared between her and I.
Which is you. Which is I.
Articles printed among the page
Kewayne Wadley
 25000 3
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Ode To No One: Sregnarts
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romance
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