When possibility meets dead-on certainty – nights spent building an arduous empire hold forth / force for the juvenile eyes that bequeath his thirsty soul

For humongous survival, still – breathing shrill and quick-some he carries with him an adolescent love for these untampered things – thin and thunderstruck into definitive imprisonment, is he, perhaps, both cornered and concerned

A mightily secluded amalgamation turned preciously toward predatory kindness – for the kissed one-thousandth word (sits neatly… terrifically attired before him)

It tears himself apart to start all over again… a pretty penny for his each and every sprinting thought
And he really ought to be a quickfire millionaire by now

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