The labyrinth within
Is mere usufruct -- I know,
A set of mind games --
A series of wrong turns
Like the line you said
Curves and forms a circle.
You give me vertigo --
Before spinning me around
Inside a dartboard
Between frames and numbers
You may shoot,
But please not the centres.

Because you're so unreal
That if you existed at all
You would be a ghost
A ghost with a snowball.


-- Eleanor