Roads
wind and wrap
around,
(over and under)
each other,
bringing us
again and
again
to the same places
from different
routes
so we are still
lost.
sign boards
double back
upon themselves
so we are travelling
in circles
on roads
that cross
and weave
and loop,
getting tangled
even as they unravel
as though from
a ball of yarn
that a cat has made
its plaything
on an afternoon
when it has tired
of chasing
mice.
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