The Crusades of Recuperation

Things come striking back,

And, all small ideas swarm around you.

 

You must come back to me,

To solve the puzzles you created.

You must come back, for me to proliferate.

Come back to return things you never returned.

Come back, to reason out the reasons beyond my reasoning.

Come to witness my failing attempts to witness you in words.

 

Seek your stare while I pick and sketch,

Intricacy studded amid daily chores.

Be at my shoulders and I’ll paint,

All shades of grey to federal-blue.

Be there and get my equations right,

In return I’ve nothing but more equations, though.

 

Things come striking back,

And, everything else swarms around you.

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