Without any visible
threads, lines of distinction
folds, or stitching
my thoughts seem
to connect
with other thoughts
on other days, adjunct
parallel, nearing but
not the same at all,
penning a love story
the perils of two lovers
the pain of heartbreak, the smiles
between, the longing the distance
the closeness to touch
the lines of caressing your skin
the invisible tingling, the goose bump
coldness of your lips meeting my skin,
transferring the chill of the fading winter
grasping, grabbing a hold
warming to touch, those fiery passionate
kisses, those warm embraces, the pain of
separation, the joy of reunion
just souvenirs we share,
the seamless distance between
our forms, not parallel lives
to lead,
my thoughts having no boundaries,
just the end of this thought, and the beginning
of the next, the ones that I’ve discarded, resurrected
into other anew, the laughter, the joy
of finding the right recipe, the mixing of lovers
the joining of hands,
the joining of thoughts,
Seamless my thoughts appear,
as if someone would question
of what I might be thinking
on any given day, given hour
on a whim, on a prayer, on a hunch
my thoughts have no end, no seams,
no apparent weight, feather-like to touch
they drift away
drift away

to a new thought brewing
rising in my imagination
a new lover, conquest
new love, old love
new lover wanted within

within my thought patterns
where no boundaries, limits exist