Nonexistent by Virtue of Resistance

There is space but there is no room.
Spring and stem and leaves,
But there is no bloom.

A moment nonexistent by virtue of resistance.
Committed- thus forbearing,
Sentiments like seasons deemed inconsistent.

Tongue tied and eyes wide.
Rampant desire,
Yearning confined to hide.

All that is manifest is this poetic vaccine.
Preventatively remaining hypothetical,
Locution evinced to quarentine.

The time is not now.
There is no reason,
No sense in seeking how.

There is space but there is no room.
Spring and stem and leaves,
But there is no bloom.

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