... (XX)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MhRXOOc_p-0&ab_channel=ZellaDayZellaDayOfficialArtistChannel

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And I yet still had to wonder

What it was, exactly, about her

That had taken me for such a ride -

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That had sunk its baited hook,

Taught, beneath my lip,

That tugged at aortal cords

And dragged me - lashing,

Fighting for my life -

To the precipice of her door step 

And into the oven of her bed.

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Christ, who’s to say how such things work?

Which chemically classified pheromone

Induces such and such euphoria? Which hormone

Corresponds to the appropriate endorphin?

And which characteristic, personal or physical quality

Might induce a man such as me, to go biting hooks -

When prompted, suddenly - with such an eager avidity?

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Who’s to say?

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And yet here I am, once again, thinking,

That I might possess myself, or this moment

Into just such those means as to describe her -

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In all stanzaic verse, set with perfect posture,

Metered by careful consideration, and rhymed

To match and mirror, both

The undulative rhythm of the act

And the point and pinnacle, of climax.

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And yet, having done such things before, 

It’d seem another wanting, waste of words -

So instead, I look besides to the commemoration

Of the memory, before I do my unabashed projections

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That would, rather then pay alms to her figure,

Look simply to metamorphose her, from a lover

And into the predisposed convenience, of a poem -

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Paying homage, rather than to her character

Only instead, to the poet's lusty skill 

With language, locution 

And a clever configuration of letters.

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