a study toward sonnet #1,150 by FisherKingKQJ
To my red embers, she draws her white sleet,
If I breathe up close, she'll bulge ice out of mush;
If she breathes close up, I'll burst fire out of slush,
Why aren't we plasma positive ion neat?
If I'm much kinder, compliments replete,
Her cold blue heart ignores my red brow flush,
Half finger on her pout, she'll sign to hush,
Her beauty such, I'll bide her blithe conceit.
As our scaled up heat exchange convection
Makes me desire her coldness more and more,
She cuts out silent, chilled out confection,
So upsized round each other we still soar.
Far out, I guess at her lips glistening
Round word shapes licking, me not listening.
(Chorus)
o $10,000,000 glistening
o $10,000,000 coruscating
o $10,000,000 flickering
[Autocube3 - for 3d interactive movies.]
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