In A Meridians Change Of Planetary Gear Poem by Mark Heathcote

She looked not in part but as a whole
Upon me through the windows of my soul
Silently gazed out openly in deep reflection
Unconscious at times I was even present
The power of this dream fuelled illusion
Was my love's innate insidious imperfection
That badly short-lived pleasure unpleasant
That all-consuming soul-devouring delusion
An incoherent part of my soul's conclusion?

She looked not in part but as a whole
Upon me through the windows of my soul
Still resonates a cold, displeasure displeased
That undernourishes my heart's subsistence
In a meridians change of planetary gear
Her thrumming words ice off non-existence
Like a person socially unloving now diseased
She'd vitriol her hate 365 days of the year
360 degrees around my soul's world sphere.