Reflective Recollection on Patterns to Which I Belong...

I can never really seem to let my notions of you go.

I hold close onto the words you’ve said.

The memory of the way you move.

And all the little things you’ve shown. 

Hints of sights you’ve seen, experiences gloamed. 

All presented to my projected senses.

In those few moments that,

The two of us have together known. 

And I wonder and I puzzle, 

Thought an Auryn twisted bauble. 

Labyrinth of loving sorrow, 

Result of an anxious attachment style.

That changes tact and tries relying,

On outpouring and beguiling, with an

Exuberant defiance. 

That turns out affection.

In parade of presentation,

Including poetry and praises. 

Promising physical adulation. 

All alluding to the notion,

That it be by universes’ motion.

We are somehow bound together in, 

A contract as impartial as the stars that set it.

For if all of time is just one instant. 

And this existence such was we get.

Is just one more iteration of a,

Stream of conscious incarnation.

Fleshly clad and demarcated,

Thus the other is created.

From whom we’ll learn who 

we can, for better or worse.

Really be, as in actually, truly.

And not just in the time it takes
For serving tea in accordance to ceremony.