I get tangled up

in a mind that's made-up,

but the cup is half-full

this time and I'm too

from the tincture that's turning the sky

cobalt blue..

 and I feel wrangled up

'cause my tide is laid-up

by the fire, but it's cool

like crushed ice and pink-blue

cotton candy,

I can't see

the road but it moves

in a way that I like,

and that friction I light 

up like I always do,

has forgotten it's measure, it can't find it's groove...

 I'm hoping this move, this shift or this mood

isn't small, temporary  or interim-woo,

'cause I like it, I wear it, I feel it like sun,

 guess I'll keep on walking and sport what I've won....

copyright 2008 Rose Loya