My mind kidnaps the thought of you, and I guess at
how every single bit of the frantically written poetry, the
hastily scribbled deer, my favorite ink-splattered jacket and its
resulting frayed right cuff from jotting down so much of hopeÖ
all of that is only a great example of Sisyphean pointlessness, but still
I really just
want to share with you the few secrets Iíve learned, amidst the chaosĖ
Ėso instead, I lie down in the peaceful grass, underlying the overlying
thought of dandelion, despite the winter lying around me;
once-think of rain too, rather than snow, but I know (since Iím not stupid) that
rain is just one more form of crying
so I frown like always and off again I wander, ŗ pied to some forgotten churchyard
just to get away.
Now that Iím there, I realize actually
that the thought of you was what kidnapped me. And never, ever vice-versa.
And I laugh, because
I am so much entwined in you.