Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

An air of sensible naïveté
was all— and all much more than sums within
equation cases’ echo: truth off proof
off truth again. Too juvenile is fact
at moments— not untrue, not adequate—
maturity surpasses what is rich
by common measure. Should I pray, my voice
engaged, who gauges true intent? What choice
transcends words’ weak and feeble symbols which
I claim for deep confessions? Ought I quit
my words and love you but naïvely? Act
surprised when on an air of love aloof
my love so common airs like genius in
a plastic bottleful of Jean Naté.

Your passion speaks beyond these wonderful words Joel....
Enjoyed this read very much....
H

aw, thanks H. glad you like it...despite having dragged in the Nate.