Bent on believing in bountiful lies
synthesizing cerebral impulses at the trough of spurious enjoyment-
There was me as I feigned importance
and awaited an animal of audacious ambiguity.
She looked alright in photographs
but they did her no justice at all.
The liquor was the least of my inebriated incompetence
when I immediately became incapacitated in her visage.
The facial features were mathematically congruent
as if she had been cut from clouds by Michelangelo.
Her eyes were inescapable and her look was electricity to the spine.
The night became a blur from there
The way I can't remember amazing dreams
but I did something right that night
because here she is right next to me.
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