I talk to you always,
No matter how far away you go.
I end up postmarking these thoughts,
all of these thoughts,
mindlessly to you.
Can you hear them?
If they aren’t sent to you,
then where do they go?
Those endless stream of
unconscious and conscious
with scenes from the day –
where do they go?
Not yet have I looked down to see a
returned package, wrapped up in
sellotape and a note attached reading:
So where do they go?
If they don’t go straight to you?
Through the air, to the stars,
through the wind to your heart.
Where do they go,
where do these constant, never-ending thoughts go?