On the phone we’d walk and talk in circles
Repeated conversations
Patterns on my rug worn from our talking
You taught me a life lived right will circle

Memories working out of order  
psychic dream senses in waking life,
stitching back together to make a web,  
Somethings have more than one context
But the synchronicity will only comes to those in rhythm

To seek out the motion, careful attention must be maintained:
A book will come back twice if it’s supposed to
One mention of it, you might let it slip your mind,
But then will come a coincidence so strong,
you’ll know it was supposed to be read

Without the dedication to trust a great doubt sets in,
the web so carefully spun begins unspooling
tangling into a knot wound so tight
It will leave in it's place a black hole
this is where I titer
between the point of falling in,
or dangling along the lines of the knot
trying to detangle whats left of the web we created
I am dancing around in different directions
hoping we’ll pass again in sync