It doesn’t work
And it doesn’t end
This mad Obsession
Will drive me round the bend

But if I let it go
Whatever will I hold
Can I call it back?
Loss gone cold

Reaching out
And touching the slime
Blind to the cloy
Just one more time

Mulching though
In gleeful oblivion
Heedless, unbidden
Guileless abandon

Headlong she tumbled
Collateral unseen
Scratched and brambled
Discombobulatory sheen.

A storm in a teacup
A bubble in a tureen
Sithering and simmering
But contained it has been

With dextrous hands
She tends to the fire
Feeding the pot
Seeding the mire

Watching softly,
Fearful of the boil
Stirring slowly
Lest it comes to a-roil


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