privileged temple

Another has fallen, smitten, then boyishly arisen, before your celestial grace. I won’t falsely profess that I’ve no appreciation, no small thralldom of compassion for each’s ecstatic affection given their infected state.

‘Tis only fair, to each their measure of requisite air, of desired light, as your presence, your lovely luminescence– radiates ‘crost, forming autumn dawn, crisply new, yet warming.

In reverence of you, Dear Friend, and in deference borne of empathy’s enveloping bramble, I will wait as each rambles– haplessly, in orbit, floating in the helplessness of veneration which had once been my privileged temple.

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