distracted and will
watch
a bug
crawl across the floor
for an hour.
i'll stare in wonder
all morning at
birds
in flight.
in gazing at the ceiling
my train of thought
is lost over
a mere fly
buzzing around
the light.
and when you walk
across the room
in those thigh high
boots,
i'm lost again.
sometimes i wonder
how i get anything
done.
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