Yet in her mind he still remains "the man-boy who sent her something in the mail." On the rebound because his true love went astray. His heightened impulsive behavior. Like a snake who's only reaction when things don't go his way is to coil his tail tighter. Constricting the vital organs as to make the sensible not so. Girl, your heart is too big, Your brain, his puppet. Puddy in hands as they say. They do say.

Heat stroke.

Concrete, set we dwell

On material things

Engulf our thoughts with unnecessary wonders.

Splitting our mind, dividing our body

Causing a rip in the unison.

Perplexed, we turn to our brain.

The brain wants peace but we turn the other cheek.

We sulk, contemplate, commiserate.

Dead silence, we tried.

And so we wait some more

Yet now we dwell in calm.

Why did I do this to myself again?