Par Three
PROLOGUE: Part One: seven year glitch
#Philosophy #Versus #Truth
PAR THREE
The Aforesaid—Revisioned
Saturday, Febru 29, 6029
.°○.
On Two Haiku.
Saturday, Febru 25; 6026
Captured—because of the tides and times.
My wife is livid with me. I failed to mention it was our four year anniversary, two years ago—yesterday. Interestingly, Xocai's haiku, was also inserted two years later into her diary—yesterday.
Reading through her pages, may've brought this next day—a connection and chemistry, my young wife would find hard to understand, she is jealous and envious; betrothed and my bride.
I can't complain—she is the prettiest girl on Ontire; winner of the pageants—maybe Xocai was the most beautiful girl in all her world, two-thousand years ago.
My wife would kill me, thinking of another woman on our day, but, the trespass is innocent, then again, imagining, Xocai, or the last librarian in Chiriq; flipping through my journals! It—I felt intrusive, would she want her life and plans, fails or wins published? As if I were planted and plucked out in such a way—
For our third anniversary my enraged beautiful wife burned all my journals away. Bumble Wings Sting Buzzing Down Chiriq Stream.
Hot Honey, tree, bee,
fiery be night's cool soft sheet,
Hot, spicy, then sweet.
Xocai Of The Motley Thrones
Saturday, Febru 24, 4024
.°○.
© 2024 Leon Lamb
© Leon Lamb
#Philosophy #Versus #Truth
PAR THREE
The Aforesaid—Revisioned
Saturday, Febru 29, 6029
.°○.
On Two Haiku.
Saturday, Febru 25; 6026
Captured—because of the tides and times.
My wife is livid with me. I failed to mention it was our four year anniversary, two years ago—yesterday. Interestingly, Xocai's haiku, was also inserted two years later into her diary—yesterday.
Reading through her pages, may've brought this next day—a connection and chemistry, my young wife would find hard to understand, she is jealous and envious; betrothed and my bride.
I can't complain—she is the prettiest girl on Ontire; winner of the pageants—maybe Xocai was the most beautiful girl in all her world, two-thousand years ago.
My wife would kill me, thinking of another woman on our day, but, the trespass is innocent, then again, imagining, Xocai, or the last librarian in Chiriq; flipping through my journals! It—I felt intrusive, would she want her life and plans, fails or wins published? As if I were planted and plucked out in such a way—
For our third anniversary my enraged beautiful wife burned all my journals away. Bumble Wings Sting Buzzing Down Chiriq Stream.
Hot Honey, tree, bee,
fiery be night's cool soft sheet,
Hot, spicy, then sweet.
Xocai Of The Motley Thrones
Saturday, Febru 24, 4024
.°○.
© 2024 Leon Lamb
© Leon Lamb