Meet Me in Make-Believe

You're the archetype

to my prototype,

the immortal

to my primordial,

the ethereal

to my celestial,

the alluring art

engraved in my heart...

Your sobriquet

is the nom de plume

and nom de guerre

of my allonym-less,

anonym-less identity

You're a respiring

kalopsia, a peristaltic

phantasmagori

To you I write

with fathomless 

depth away from

the empyrean zenith 

--of a starry night

You're an intertidal

inertia with an

 intoxicating intrusion,

an inevitable impermanence

bringing ideal illusion

You're the trompe l'oeil

to my legerdemain,

the machination of a

multifunctional multidomain

You're indescribable in one

tangential touch

A sprinkle of you

 is a pivoting trickle 

of  irrepressible latch

I wish I were 

a persistent particle

 to your molecule,

A free-flowing floccule

 to your aerodynamic 

amygdule,

An ignis fatuus

to your will-o'-the-wisp 

nimbus;

A surreal psychedelic

to your trippy aesthetic!

But hyperboles and plotholes

never merely count;

For words are just words 

in a woolgatherer's account,

Where wishful thinking escapes

Without bringing the escapist

And soul searching stays

Without fooling the realist 

I have loved and cherished

 a mindful of you 

in mystical misbelief 

For that, I'll never be close

to rewarding relief 

Clearly, you're no Plato

and I'm no five zero

four zero

You're no Orwell's

1984 alive

and I'm no Radiohead's

two plus two equals five

We are as made-up 

as historical revisionism,

as grim as Kafkaesque 

impressionism

Because of us, "indeterminate"

becomes clear

Just one U and one I 

to make opposites 

repel with fear