π recalled

Her point:
a ring,
a token declaring my ardent fancy,
may apply unwanted pressures
(unusual urgencies, too)
on our liaisons;

that jewels
or golden band can
not persuade her to
abandon ingrained fears.

Nothing so precious relieves even a dithering,
however I insist.

Meanwhile her perimeter prohibits the efforts forth,
a nothing there fastened
so nothing unwelcome happens
that satisfies this keen craze,

expanding so
the nothing becomes unwieldy,
a vessel that nothing pricks,
no yearning breaks,
no . . .
nothing.

Unending squabbles,
incessant pleading,
limits to remember . . .
nothing.

And more promises
to prove our love is a . . .

I suspect
nothing,
really.



Wait! Now, go back to the beginning
and touch each word in turn.

Image from ClassicGeek.com.