Aloft

Aloft

A Poem by drtism

Some high, some low, some loud, some not, my guides above me, just aloft.
As a naive a trial, an inch a mile, still drawn to her, my stunner does pull me, though rarely soft.

Each blink clearer, my gate the lighter, my ebbs tax less, now I Know, no need to guess.
My guile ever quickening, my aim ever closer, I so much love this style of dress.

© 2015 drtism


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Added on February 27, 2015
Last Updated on February 27, 2015

Author

drtism
drtism

Wilsonville, OR



About
I have finally woken up after thinking I was a fully functioning human for so long. I took the traditional path for a man of my sort. Lots of college and lots of supposed successes. In nine years o.. more..

Writing
Waking Up Waking Up

A Poem by drtism