I Don'T Really Know You................

You trickle through my mind like a meandering stream. You infiltrate my normality and drip, drip, drip annoyingly into my totality like a tap in need of a washer. Thoughts of you tug at my nuerological pathways, butting in, interrupting constantly throughout the day. Flashes of your words perforate mine - I say what you would say. Yet I don't really know you - you were a glimpse, a spectre phantom ghost:- when I turned to look you'd gone and I'm plunged headlong, on free-fall into confusion. My mind buzzes, frenzied with manic thoughts of you. You are seeping, creeping like a pool of molten lava down the mountainous pathway that is my reality. I retrace my steps half-hoping that I'll find you but scared in case I do. Looking with semi-blinkered eyes into crowds of milling strangers, perhaps they're looking too for a glorious illusion, an escape from the mundane. I walk, I run through crowded streets, see shops of discontent, I find vendors selling fantasy, and there you are again.