Wondering through the ether of my heart lines,
messy, smoldering smoke ribbons
leading me to everywhere and tethered nowhere.
Love is a woven mess;
a nest of all the discarded twigs and leaves
still, the hollow is so warm and soft.
If only this, if only that,
nothing will stop the ache when it all comes back.
Flashing like gold glints streaking through consciousness
I was hoping I would forget about you
but I keep picking up the twigs.