How I picture thoughts
Thoughts float in that infinite
Small space between bodies and oblivion, and are near
Impossible to grasp.
They weave themselves into his fingertips and strands of unruly hair,
Or stretch wide to brush
Against the face of God.
Some flit from place to place
And disappear around unseen
Corners, whilst others linger, silent.
My thoughts waltz over lost memories and
Charcoal, pausing to glance at guarded hearts
Before dancing on towards the colour green,
Never turning to look back or wonder why.