The droplets of despondency
freewheeling
down
your
cheeks
like crimson rose
petals immersed in telluric tears. [you are]
obviously distraught, blatantly attempting
to release the perplexities, the labyrinth of the
inner turmoil between
coherent reasoning and indomitable yearn
to taste the texture
of an artful grin,
laboring fingertips,
of wintry mint breath
grazing the nape of your neck,
of supple lips dabbling the tip
of your nose.

But the blatantly expressed
is treated as blatant
as the footsteps
of an invisible man
shuffling his way through
a rabble of the self-absorbed