They come every second
and without intention
he will attend to each whim.
Dissecting
Scrutinising
extrapolating with a story tellers precision
The gears of his imagination grind out scenarios
he believes may play
Out in
Parallel planes of existence
Seamlessly
His attention quick shifts with each passing tic
toc
one thing
to the next.
Can't help but notice, everywhere, cotton
bearing the contours of ripe fruit
and wrinkled veg underneath
Everywhere, windows display bait; a hard back best seller hooks and draws him in. You can never have too many, he lies. A steal at £2.
Wishful, he thinks he can pour time into each thing.
Underneath, he knows, there is never enough
Attention offends repeatedly
held captive
time is lost.
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