Bent over backwards

That entrapment pen – and a whole other word, world, bargains upon beneficial enlightenment
This estranged entanglement
All of his narrowed-out alter-egos – zeroes to hopscotch heroes in the sullen and lonely blink of a fifty-year-old eye-piece begin to saviour and sway

Collaborated midst a dishevelled ear-piece

Pockmarked and besmirched to an outright anointed point – announce yourselves meticulously well pressed inescapably against, please

Let. It. Be.
Downright descriptively quarrelled and decidedly quantifiable via breakneck speed

When the racing nature of that undeniably suggestive pen makes roundabout fellowship sense of itself

And here sits a miserly somebody so soon as the bankable room assumes an upstanding re-positioning again

The sleight of hand, that is in fact where the light gets in … nothing else for it but utter carefree and sacrosanct commotion midst an ocean of restless, relentless, uncertainty

He is about to be placed under serious suspicion for all of an age-old century.