Boulevard

Flower on ineludible metal:
You enraptured my attention
With Intertwining Silver; Adolescent Charm:
And a Picture-Perfect Understanding

Between our ocular lingua franca.
Amidst our entwined hands,
Palms flat, fire and ice, furnace and climatization,
I dive, deeper beneath glazed and aquamarine

Into the cortex: into comprehension itself
To sit beneath heaven and stars;
The bewilderment and blunders; the unfaulted
Cement of the boulevard of our excursions.

We plummet into the depths of colorlessness and
The aquamarine - beneath the wakes of
Uncertainty and Anxiety.
Still you do not relinquish

Your grasp upon perma-freeze or persistence
But pray that heaven's celestial beings,
Be not the contradiction of hellish fire
But a more pleasant variation thus approved,
So you don't desire a no-go in the midst
Of the perfect battle:
The golden horizon.

And yet, floral-love does wilt and shatter
Upon touch of chilling insecurity and lacking
Infallibility: piteous fear sparked by naïveté.

Thus cracks before the crystal floor.

Thus shatters above shining boulevard.

Propelled by the dry-iced girl whom
Is no lady nor woman nor sophisticated adult
But a child stuck beneath aquamarine and deep wakes:
Stuck behind you on a boulevard

Where dreams really are broken with
That silver blossoming plumeria on crystal carpet.
Where you subtly increase your tempo to
A driving beat, leaving me on
Crystal ice and lone dance floor
Beneath the unwavering blackness and starry sky,
Trying to change a manner or more
Into acceptability and new strides.

A step utilized to follow forever.

A pace to which you lay, eternally unaware.