He is lost in his atlas of all things.
The unknown and unseen capture his though.
He is encapsulated in a determination to discover;
to walk on untouched land.

I follow his fingers as they trace the page.
In the space between place names and conversation resonates, it hangs in my wardrobe and hides in the rumples of his sheets.
He doesn't know his ouwn mind, I am sure of it,
But then again, I don't know mine.