..And these paths spring out, so many little paths I travel and wander and roam that excite me. I don’t adorn myself with someone or something else along the way; if I find someone fascinating, I will peacefully forget myself at times without effort, how I can be found in the spirals.
Mist may be said to conceal things past, but I don’t let anything get so lost; the mist is always clear for me if I wish to remember. I care nothing to draw proofs out of the past, and I am too flowing to be strict with new conclusions. I loved it when I’d been told something that had just come to mind and it had happened with my mind the same, and there’d been no expectation to find you and me the same, but yes, I had thought that thought, too, in a way, before and after you.
My mind can find so many paths and yet not get lost, not fall off track, and I don’t try to find a convincing story to give to anyone that you deserved it from me, and simple logic would not find all there is of how I love you.