Centres: gumby

Like to opening a book, looking at me, so much to see,

The pages go on forever, infinitely, in a stoned

Daydream, a leaf trembles, scattering

My future indefinite: should I care a bit? I don’t know

Myself, but on thought of you, striking this view

I rise to the occasion, forged, become beautiful

For it struck me again, that satisfied grin

Taking over, mysteriously found me tho I can’t find

Anything, fastens, fass to me, here, look and find

Where are you, as mysterious as I, gone living?

And living, riddled with eternal spheres unwritten,

Forged in your grin, all I’ve become, to live for you