saved by hiding behind fences and locked gates
you'd need a shovel to find her thoughts
buried under bushes by the roots of trees
your curiosity climbs and seeps like the vines
she'd stand behind, out of view
bamboo spreads like ideas of breaking down walls
words linger like fog, hanging above everyone
gazes drop when words go too far and tales become too tall
she'd keep the key away from arm's reach
ideas won't bring you closer
fog isn't a blanket but a cover up
tall tales can't take you to the tops of trees
