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.

© grace.b 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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Eh, I do like a bit of cryptic musings, me. Could work up into a poem format as well. Mitch

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