Wondering

Fingers tapping speak of thoughts; index pauses in daze of memory sitting on the looking glass table, standing slanted and motionless. One hair strand caught by the weak wind free falls back with the many, ever so sad; individualism touched but thrown when grabbed. Gaze tilted, strained by colors of light; stay open, they dance in brilliance made puzzles, but once solved the whole is dull... Bottled sometimes I feel is the senses Unopened, seeping out in moments not needed Trashing those so called intimacies It could be just a laden thought ' Minor spasm of unruly behavior kept locked Hesitant Even with that kiss hello, for with goodbye you'll never know Restless Even with a short embrace, for if you leave you might be chased Never sure is the is the one Owning nothing is the sum Wondering is the door that stays framed...