Follow

The prick of your
Thorn
An ironic
Sensation—
Not the sharp
Pain I
Expected.

The slap of your
Tongue
An odd
Contemplation
And I am
Stunned by my
Silence.

The sway of your
Thought
How trite yet
Perplexing
And I am
Challenged to
Reason.

The presence of
You
A strange
Intersection
And I am left
Searching for
Answers.

The light in
You
A sign of
Direction
And all I
Can do is
Follow.

The fight in
Me
A will of
Conviction
And so I
Continue to
Question.