Reversible Dispersal, or Slipped Infinitive
Now there can be no realization. I gather shards of tense / from the abundant blue confusion. Cuneiform or acanthus thus suffice. There is no rosy gnosis to this. The kiss persists, enclitic to it but involute. Cadence to coda. A sequence of gamuts nested in diffusion or the locus of an enhanced delay. A mere spatial evasion maybe . . . a cloud of pixels, inexplicably . . . scintillates beside me, some immaculate lattice mapped upon maximum circumstance and the axiomatics of desire. The resultant epiphany obviously adept deception.