"to be liked"

gasping for air under each luminous tide,
attempting to preserve genuineness;
persuading shadows of the past
through the King's court
to humbly bow down--
like paupers before princes

conveying the full breath of splendor,
pressing a soliloquy onto my skin:
suspending every single daydream
through the center of a bull's eye
to be here one day and gone the next--
like a water-based tattoo

convincing every fear to subside,
including gamophobia;
catapulting into tumultuous joy
through the trodden way of reminiscent holidays
to purposely linger--
like the smell of pine trees in late December

dancing like a bride and groom,
celebrating the long-awaited union;
forcing innumerable years of memories
through a platinum band of commitment
to erupt within a long-lasting periscope--
like the promise of a sleeping volcano