When thoughts become obsessive,
Is my heart being made redundant,
laid off, cast off,
recycled pulse rates,
mere skip hire fodder,
atrophied organ sinking into deep morass,
panic stricken warning notice object,
abject  part indigenous scarred,
or scared from sudden rupture once a golden seal,
the intensity of love and verdant  pathways,
but thoughts they zigzag devious,
without a leash, curb or rein,
they stray like homeless drifters at night,
whose piercing blue eyes
scupper vagrant mist,
but oh those torrid thoughts,
of past romantic Himalayan peaks,
where nostalgic loitering a back to front yen,
currency of tantalising  moment,
fluctuating in a high stake bearer instrument,
cliff top shudder inadvertent plunge,
yet each thought I used to  frolic with,
in meadows of a mythic mystic mind,
we’re so glare blind and delusional,
dragging me on circuitous
dandelion epiphanies,
symbolising gurgle stream limestone cave exit,
some dual world attachment barely visible,
detachment on aloof scorched red wood boundary,
thoughts are like those joined at hip beings,
feeding of the actual mesmerizing carousel
of fleeting guests and life events,
or so it seemed,
perhaps it’s just a thought,
of all those things that never
settle in one spot

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