Pacific Mosiac

Ah, for the pacific flow
of unmeant conversation
on the tortuous mosaic of
my brain.
Ah, for the milk-white stream
to sooth my bright ideas into
calmness
yet again.
Ah, that I might not speak
one single word from my
sharp-edged thoughts,
but simply tide with
sweet pale falsehood.
Ah, for the graceful flow
of gentle insincerity
down the many-tiled rift
on my chest.
Ah, to lie in peace!

-by Giv, written in February and suddenly brought back to mind yesterday afternoon. I shall pretend there is some vital significance in that.