I'm in this place, this awkward space,
keeping pace with the ace of hearts...
I keep hiding in my lost deck of cards;
they're all weeping: What will be reaped
when we're found, a heart's truth sounded?
Arms wrapped around, surround, no rebound:
a word to keep pace with this merry-go-around.
I want to keep going but this is a mini-break a work...
Poetic thought trespassed my working thoughts and I was forced to break the pace of my typing tippity-tap-tap to wrestle out these lines in a form I've never written before... I like it. It's complicated, I know. I know what it is about.
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