lost in muse muesli

purring like a cataract

as a splatter of a splatter of a fact

      mattering like missing links

      glugging like those kitchen sinks

smiling like the morning sun

choking like a smoking gun

      gloaming like the even’ tide

      falling fast – with her abide

floating like a sylphid friend

futures blooming past the bend

      dancing like the pants of ants

      blessing like a second chance

sneezing like a garden gnome

larking while the statues roam

      shining like an eggheads crown

     if the noon is booming down

bucking like a fucking mule

steaming like a bowl of gruel

      rocky like gibraltar’s strait

      wonky like the curate’s gait

likeable – just like a like

rideable like old school bikes

      such is her analogy

      like another – simile

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