Cadences, jumpy nonetheless.
Not so much as to smugness
But more of lying in wait–
either for a lover or a comrade,
companionship that knows no strife.
Or a good book, where
the eyes satiate themselves;
far-flung places, unreachable but still
very much auspicious–
in the midst of coffee, chatter
(nonsensical at times or otherwise)
with multitudinous notes
until humanity in all its cosmopolitan air
is drenched in almost ambiguous tunes and its hues–