Verbally

There is a strange concoction
Of words and feelings.
It was about time.
Merely,

They slither through the slots sneakily,
As I can't grasp the structure of expression.
A moment, a movement leads to suppressed sound.
Calm,

Precursor of the shattering,
Before a helpless cry for understanding.
I see no sound, when I hear no scenery.

In. Enlarge, and lost in thought.
In the evening, muffled sound and a bubble.
Humming almost at the height,
Exhale.

Silly sense in the aftermath,
Second from the reasoning
And the sweet smell of sugar in the air.
Nonsense.