Editor’s Cut

I snuck up on a swan with no quiver to exercise a very different kind of archery.

Augmented by an eternal shiver, from this morning chill you can not deliver me.

Proximity to beauty does not secure real joy, but I can not draw dangerously close.

Trading arrows for enigmatic speech takes time, with an added tax of being obnoxiously verbose.

If brevity is the key, I will be forced to audition for the supporting role of lock.

How can I speak truthfully without abusing the second hand of your generous clock?

Is it wrong that I want to look upon you without the desire of a return glance?

Horses of the plain bolt for their lives, while the stabled kind learn how to prance.

All the defensiveness and ridicule is not lost on your peers, trust me, I get it.

If I'm the plague, you don't want to be labeled a Typhoid Mary that unwittingly spread it.

By now you should understand my stealth is not derive from seedy illegalities.

I'll spare you of my blues guitar, neither will I lean on predictable social maladies.

If any of this makes me a creep, then I gladly plea guilty to that charge.

A bike does not upgrade to a Bentley for being neatly parked in a garage.

What I posses will never be found by the likes of another human.

Out of all the gameshows, mine is the only one that is flatteringly Truman.

Despite the handicap, I am up at least a whopping forty points.

Despite arthritic attack, I still enjoy a full range of motion in all my various joints.

I can not teach you how I entrance the reader, that gem is wonderfully immutable.

Irretrievable milestones can not be explain, my arrested development is embarrassingly indisputable.

A graduating class of anesthesiologists could not remove this foreboding feeling.

Some call me a defeatist because I developed a green thumb underneath this glass ceiling.

Who wants to give up their down time to play with Dracula.

I'm overcooked on one side, momma couldn't afford a spatula.

Don't overreact when I protect the area that is painfully raw.

The tree I looked at fell suddenly, but that the wrong kind of saw.

Stay tuned, I am shrouded in sex appeal and a splash of mystery.

I do this all without the aid of bedroom eyes or a voice that is whispery.

Once my hooks are in an audience, they become a possession for life.

If they demand too much, I channel the indifference of Louis the 16th's wife.