T-I beat my fists in hate-
P-You are the arbiter of agony
M-So I dismiss, with apathy
R-My oft-hidden desire
P-For fantasy dances with you
T-This is a firm statement
P-Yours is the despot of disarray
M-From whom which, I walk away
R-Into introversion -
P-So I may toy with fables
Do you see, how you run
From my pinkie, to my thumb?
Lazarus Knix
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hands-29/
