and I start down a familiar

prism of linear 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 un-utilized 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

do not remind me