Tonight our words are forming boundaries,
coercing us into this silhouette of blatant fiction.
It wavers. Oh, just then you threw your arms around me effectively inducing Looking Glass derived refractions.
So dont wait for us. The seasons perfect.
Hold on, be still. The shadows coming. And well sing,
well sing like murderers in choirs.
When we shelter these infractions Im in love.
The curvature of prose completes us.
Theres no substance in our lungs.

But now this condescending grandeur will seize our rhetorical cries.
Im here my sweet Madeline.
And write me off like Im a child Ive used up my newness in stride.
Im here my sweet Madeline.
Because the infraction in decency accents your perception of what we imply,
you fabricate your affections tonight.
And your makeshift compassions affectively placed when it suits you and their compliments seem to run dry.
Ill be your default tonight.
So take my kindness as a weakness;
I am benign. But still Ill hold on. Ill hold on!
You are the consummate motion of dilated inhibitions. Improve your net worth by negating your constraints.
Youre the malevolent rupture in collective progression.
I am your sense of achievement.
Im a fallback, Im your failures, but you are the one I would die for.