Modal Misery

When I climb my Abalone, fretwired ladders of fixation,
I find you there,
Harmony,
Hanging double string bent,
Callous and cuticle torn,
You mimic my dorian tumblings,
Into chaos,
Cacophony,
I lose the plot,
Heart to fingertips,
Misguided,
Bamboo raps on white knuckled dexterity,
Bleeding, suffocating, scalic conformity,
Until you entice,
Lifting me,
Beyond the learning, beyond  "the dots",
Chasing the maple fear, in a wave,
Lock fits key, in minor complexity,
And we are free.

Olias