his mind all day

here’s a nice mix of

follicles and dome captivating above average

begs wondering if what rolls around ever wanders toward

enigmatic telepathy of mine

consumed with inner workings

whether pools match similar luster

as the I and the Q

lotus blossom is to water

his mind floats on streams where a parade

of inquiries lead   and the writer commands

finds himself unable to concentrate

cause I appear interfering among series of process

becoming gentle sprinkle softening where he lays   fresh and aromatic

hope I’m distraction

can’t rid the urge to investigate

picking up scent

coming to see about me

my daring dreams

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