Analysis of Wishful Thoughts Rippled

Ripped from visions: twisted broken nightmares,
I fluttered the realms of reality
across dark eyes; black and bruised with cold sleep,
her presence still lingered in my mind's stare.
Notorious flakes of fetid reason
roamed brand new hallucinations while drops
of imagination slapped against me.
Want laughed at insecurity's low curves,
I morphed into a deadly molecule's grin,
the mirror found my face: a mannequin;
manoeuvred by some strange quiet forces.

Wishful thoughts rippled down my cheek's marble
explosions of irregularity -
intimate experience slurped fishnet
dominance as Nietzschean pleasure wet
philosophy's sweet physiology.
All I longed for now was to return to dreams
where her pirouettes of language capture
every single breath released with fine love.