No!
No contusion of the spheres,

dyscalculia, no, no hindsight bias,
Fra Angelico, sun up,
girl,
you’re a mess.
I’m going to grab you.
I am a visual person. Always have as I see you admired you. Liked you. 
A month ago I took no umbrage, bloated out of proportion, 
any umbrage hurled as a term in frustration. But now. 
Non being in an octave, lonely as un-filmed pretexts & Goethe’s juvenilia. 
Good instincts aside, no ephemerality, no hidden rounds 
Or inflexible spite. I see what no means.