cycles

the record spins round
the whirlpool calls
but even it begins to drown
itself and the waves of sound

found oneself at a roundabout
entered but lost sight of ways out
lakes slipped into the mouths
of clouds once more let down

from stardust to
becoming one with earth’s crust
the eyes of lust fathom the smell
of love into a yearning of loving musk

a seasonal obsession
cratered depressions
observing the world with too many questions
and too many undercover answers with true identities of simple suggestions

it comes
and it goes
it loves
when you loathe

off the beaten path
a formula with unfamiliar math
the search for satisfaction that eternally lasts
chased by running in place stuck in the first lap

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