llicit thoughts sprout; growing like untamed vines, tangling the subconscious. Mist is burned off, clarifying thought; napalm on the forest of my mind. Images spark and shine, golden hair, frame a face, lips curved, tempting. I feel like Adam, craving a beautiful forbidden fruit. Eris and her Golden Apple. blue Eyes, planting seeds in my mind, growing bramble that distracts me. My hands itch, craving the antidote, hidden in the mists of the vines. Unbidden, they clasp yours, and illicit thoughts bloom in my head.