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serums of truth sweat into oak tables,

sourcing loose-lipped condescension

from cupid's citric bowstring.

the disarmament from lover's chirography 

juxtaposes the shell shock in the wake of a vice clutch,

curling around the trigger of a sweetheart grip.

the standalone correlation of the opponents being heart rate suspension

the mind strays from its compass,

leading a law abiding prisoner into incarceration,

blindfolded in a collapsing surrender.

the mind turns static toward dead-ended threats

insinuated by the the arsenic inhalation of a chinese whisper

the blunter the blade, the deeper it must press 

before it reaps its recompense.

under unripened ownership

over a seldom emergence of solicitude,

it'll prove to flush evergreen

in between the hours which refuse to pass.

though berated with tactless resolve,

the ties that plea robust cannot be severed-

the scent of your name already reserves my last breath,

seeking greying permanence in memento mori.