A

moment

plants the seed.

You said something

wrong again. The words

take root between the folds

of your brain, neural pathways

you will walk until they are worn

into your mind, an unpermitted

but inevitable desire path.

And your head has become crowded with them,

thoughts scurry down each one, running circles

‘round your life. These paths are escape

routes for strays, mountain passes

for invaders who lay

waste to your body.

You are tangled

and restrained

by your

faults.