Closed Canvas

Bout- feelings during infatuation.

Block out the world,
Soak in the air,
Feel every nerve humming,
Singing in full throated ease,
Live in that etch, flow with that breeze,

On a canvas of closed eyelids,
Paints the song a form
Accuquanted countenance, hello to thee
Visiting again, you to me?
Is there a reason to this hallucinating?
All pleasures now so dwarfed and daunting.
Block out the world,
Soak in the air,
Feel every nerve humming.