Nothing above it; not even an infinitesimal iota towering above its majestically untainted and gloriously unhindered swirl, 

 

Nothing below it; not even a mercurial iota lurking beneath its fantastically pristine and sensuously enthralling identity, 

 

Nothing antagonistic to it; not even an inconspicuous shade contradicting its bountifully emollient and triumphantly benign ramifications, 

 

Nothing to the right of it; not even a transient degree swerving from its effulgently mellifluous and timelessly ecstatic shadow, 

 

Nothing to the left of it; not even an ethereal millimeter away from its victoriously beautiful and interminably poignant cascade, 

 

Nothing overlapping it; not even the most invisible whisker trying to obscure its ebulliently virile and royally unassailable luminescence, 

 

Nothing sidelining it; not even the most obfuscated ingredient of royalty attempting to devour its altruistically brilliant and impregnably sparkling integrity, 

 

Nothing overlooking it; not even an ephemeral molecule of indifference to its fervently undefeated and unconquerably ubiquitous caress, 

 

Nothing victimizing it; not even an invisible ingredient of venomous commercialism trying to ensnare its uninhibitedly magical and voluptuously fecund wings, 

 

Nothing beyond it; not even a diminutive speck of tantalizing mirage; trying to seductively lure beyond its beautifully sculptured and unbelievably enamoring contours, 

 

Nothing surrounding it; not even an evanescent mist of mouth watering temptation encapsulating its perennially fructifying and compassionately befriending scepter, 

 

Nothing blocking it; not even an unmentionably fugitive obstruction to its timelessly unfettered and astoundingly inimitable fragrance, 

 

Nothing hypnotizing it; not even an obliterated spell of drudged witchcraft trying to control its insuperably magnificent and fathomlessly spotless soul, 

 

Nothing empowering it; not even the tiniest trace of the tyrannically robotic devil trying to maliciously overwhelm its undyingly winning and divinely infallible incantation, 

 

Nothing questioning it; not even a single moment of interrogation to its unshakably irreproachable and eternally burgeoning seed, 

 

Nothing dictating it; not even an infidel insinuation of cold-blooded doggedness against its wondrously omnipotent and insatiably passionate heartbeats, 

 

Nothing burying it; not even a minuscule thread of manipulation trying to brutally asphyxiate its eternally ravishing and universally blissful appeal, 

 

Nothing discarding it; not even a transitory beacon of oblivion viciously

trying to gobble its everlastingly sacrosanct and endlessly intrepid odysseys, 

 

 

As whatever I had; dreamt or ever possessed; was solely and perpetually in it; was solely and perpetually for it; was solely and perpetually about it; was infact solely and perpetually "IT" itself; and this "IT" would forever and ever and ever mean 

my "Poetry".