In A Meridian Change Of Planetary Gear

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 meridian 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.