11: 1st choice for a sonnet is to solve you for x. If you must, be rude, foolish but coalesce; x copies my life for yours.

After, I feel a burst of fresh blood, wisdom and your living endowment.

Wait. Later, without x... it’s cold, a waning world away...

But so like-minded so fast —
we convert to folly ..

The world you call yours we keep featureless, barren.

Inky smoke releasing a genocidal collage, live
Thought in waves agitated, reproached, disappeared
In drumming opinions subtracting best practices —
Look for nothing here to help increase harsh times that should cease.
Cold freezing nature, per se, nature will age, decay.
And yet not you, my love.. The more you live you are given what you give.