Virtual palm readers examine lifelines
regurgitate karma-infused oracles
as trite as scribbles in a high school yearbook…
acquaintances wish good health, friends predict
summer romance, fall inspiration, winter reflection,
spring renewal amid an uncertain future—
shaped by appetite nurtured in solitude.

           Pledges to, “See you in September,”
           mask underlying discomfort and apprehension
           bestie faces shall fade in memories crowded:
           drifting, disappearing like phantom ships
           guided by the Milky Way’s flickering flare.

No time for odes to nightingales or urns
when tactile words fall short of lovers
they melt like snowflakes losing shape,
form, and distinction unable to satiate desire,
set rhapsodic hearts ablaze, celebrate cordial verse,
open arms wide to embrace erotic elegies
craving, coveting tactile cosmic hugs.