Detachment
How strange; I was told to remove myself
Out of what I write, to move my feeling
To turn what I had seen from my seeing,
To that of the same seen object itself
Funny; guess what I found in it’s place?
I found a physical joy in the thought
Much greater than previously brought
And more compact feeing in a small space
I felt my heart swell and beat the faster
As I mused on the feelings made,
My thought for your form seemed a fair trade
I laugh, sidetracked, 'I can make pasta’
My self absent musing and their new bliss
Left no room for writing, I write only this -
