i yearn to scribe in free verse,
and form unconventional structures
that tell stories of our battles
upon grounds of sonnets
against the views of orthodoxy,
cause they could never understand our nature to love.

i long to paint your existence
in colors reminiscent of a time
where blues and greens
mixed with indigos and yellows,
to create spectrums
where the norm is laced with disjointed depictions
of slurred rainbows,
and illusions of nostalgic memories
reflecting on our timeless infatuation.

i wish i could write melodies
that flowed in consonance,
if only to offset their perception of dissonance,
while avoiding the false harmonies
in predetermined scales and arpeggios.

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