tis i, the praying mantis
with feelies exposed;
comparing sunsets
ever the stoic solicitor

for you, my lady bug,
in the teardrop well
rest the reminents of
solitary concerts

the gray trunk of time
sucks up a Mississippi
of my passionate watershed
in a mere several months

yet, it will not run dry
though try Casio might;
the produce will remain
stocked and green as I

for contained within each
deposit and withdrawal
are the dividends, acting
out my promise to you

and I will never reach to
consume your bright wings
rather, I will strike down
those who obstruct your way

lo, I must wait for it;
as the promise is kept,
the well has lost purpose,
and liquids are forgotten

when I, the praying mantis, cease
the extraneous mantras once the
promise is fulfilled by the
amalgamation of red, black and green