And so ...

The jackpot’s guaranteed yet still the itch of palm

to feel the grain and texture of immortal love

and the scratch and scratch of searching minds

sends the itch a-creeping deep and deeper still

into the psyche, see?

And so the body squirms and jiggles  

in the light of oncoming obstacles

planned to coincide with an indecorous stretch

into the mystical. 

But this … this surreptitious invasion

works silently and stealthily to satisfy the psyche

by whatever means fits the circumstances.

And so there’s pain and no gain, an illness, poverty,

together with the so and so,
 the so and so  of how life goes,  

before the knowing that ~

immortal love is just an itch no human being can scratch

or dent, or break, or disengage from the psyche, see?