Auteur

Nothing's left unscathed by my fingerprints; Fabricating the familiar phrases, you can't Escape my impressions or eloquence, Silvering keys unlocking the doors Of the gap between us, Of what sense to make of this? Sit a while, and filter light That dances upon a screen, Connecting you and me. Encompassing, engulfing The span of eternity. Rhyme and reason falter With much discretion: Compunction of a clockmaker Tactfully in shambles- They fall apart at the seams of seconds.