I was first infatuated with an idea.
The idea of the polychromatic hues of grass that lay around me.
Green and lush
And dotted with pink
Lovely flowers that decorated the scene.
I was first infatuated with her
Once human,
now bodiless entity.
Her immaculate epitome of the ideal;
Descriptions of the indescribable
Of which I desiderate.
She whom I could never address in words,
Whose qualia could never break into writing
Entirely as a comprehensible picture.
I was first infatuated with an idea,
And that idea as it were,
Was her.
YOU ARE READING
Snippets
Poetry"Snippets" is a collection of what I deem to be the best of my early poetry. Often written late at night, I like to think of them as snippets of my phenomenological experience at certain points in life, a memory of thought out of time that I can rea...
