A mind as discursive as mine
Comes across your image as often as anything.
Mind so unsure,
Yet you're the last thing I could ever come to abhor.
Be as nimble as a tingle from a dismaying thought whispered from my mind to yours.
It's much simpler like that.
The spread of the ideas can cross into the uncharted.
An unintentional swooning occurs in our chats.
Mutually respective, but with a thick latch.
If your intention involve my disappearance,
Just tell me, I'll stop.
Nothing but an idea shall exist in my thoughts.