and I start down a familiar
prism of linearly closed colors
organized without separate willpower
like plants with flowers that don’t mix
on a decided thought-path the wants will
grow in strength and length like a
insistent chain link pattern of ideas
eventually it will open the door
so the next phase can bring it close
not always when you expect it to
organized hearts don’t detonate passionately
the way that a tumultuous connection does
reading into everything works the brain too hard
easily leading to incorrect assumptions
quietly just as important as quickly
useless pauses or unutilized shortcuts
if you want to make it really clear
right now not everyone gets to pass through the drawbridge
ending the pain by seeking pleasure
don’t remind me…