Aye,
Dead Man.
Sun Ablaze In Glory.
No Summer Day Finer.
Asexuals Like Me Laughing At Comparing Women,
To Weather.
Masses convinced it was romance –
I see the misogyny of another metaphor.
Was that the intent?
Of the infinite metaphors –
You choose sunshine?
Changing contexts?
Stay dead;
Bard.
“The day is yours.”
