Slinking only ever onward,
we spiral and loop in concertion.
Just time
to fall swiftly onward,
into an abode of self affliction.

My addiction
an ethereal reflection,
always bending to fit.
As its footprints
wend ways in foresight,
I meander in haze.

I step just far enough,
to be balancing on the edge,
of intelligence and love.

Let the wind blow...

11/01/2004

Author's Note: Kinda being in love for all the wrong reasons...but realizing it's just your perspective messing with you. Because otherwise it wouldn't keep coming around to the same things. I dunno, an author's note as abstract as the poem. But hey that's my style...

Posted on 11/01/2004
Copyright © 2024 J. P. Davies