...Wreathlections

...Caste me a glare, a mirroring imagery
...feed me another of your tastiest high-insecuriteas
...angle me your best shot searching for obtuse
...reeling in the pleasures that reely are of no use

...seeing is believing, but I still do not believe
...that believing that what I am seeing has held no dawn reprieve
...I glance to my left, he seems to do that too
...but only to my left he glances as its his right-full view

...this worlde of the eye, what for the the non-sighted?
...you came crashing through the veils to me unannounced and uninvited
...like a pair of fighting cats we seek to see them move
...as stille as can be I await a movement that will ultimately disprove

...if I don't agree with what I see, I can always turn down the lightes
...if I want not to hear those wordes, I will wander from your sighte
...staring silently through the most loaded of self-critical of air
...this is where I am to be founde now, this my self-made angry chair

...the last mile, the longest of walks
...the last of my wordes, the briefest of talks
...I touched you deep, the deepest you will e'er be
...and after all of this I barely resemble the unknown me