The thought comes in an instant
The naturally occurring thought of you

Clouds in the sky take turns approaching
Leaving and dispersing
Each word I wrote you
Becomes vapor, becomes strands of rain
Falls on cracked and desolate woods
Falls on promised roads

Each word was stringy
And braided into a thousand ropes
Thrown into the sea now and flow with the tide
Down into the deep well when darkness is near
Each word is there
A field of echoes, a field of light for you to read