Thought Geometry

As the clouds begin to blanket the day and scatter during my dreams,
my days repeat themselves, with tiny variations,
so as to create a pattern, for the all-encompassing, general memory,
feeding my advantage as a slow methodic.

This is who you are and all of my fighting confusion
never stood a second in the presence of definite answers,
the years gain dogged uncertainty, flopping between an instance,
as my reference earns momentum, and a long, windy corridor.