The impenetrable logic that wriggles
its strong bright hands before my eyes
distracting and distancing
drawing my gaze away
withdrawn from simple knowledge
complicated and confused

I lay still
on the soft floor
where it's safe
And calm

Thoughts gushing through narrow corridors
bust pipes and crossed wires, releasing
the past and the present slip further apart
all memories lock themselves in a log cabin
and the forest grows thick and wild around

I lay still
floating, on my back
down slow clear waters
and dream

It seems that growing up and moving away
happened quietly when eyes were wandering
I was sleeping or I was dozing in the living room
watching a short film
about rivers, cabins and bright hands

I wish I didn't have to think
or have to see what thinking brings...

(Dec 2013)