The Pinecone

Your eyes are clear and blue like a lake.

But your mind is not, and I don't understand it.

It's like finally understanding how to add,

And then the teacher introduces fractions. 

Like a system of equations that was true. 

But now, the point has changed, and suddenly there's, 'no solution'. 

But in one brief moment a pinecone hung from the ceiling between you & I. 

"What's that supposed to be, mistletoe?"

And in that moment I set myself up,

the equation changed and now there's 'infinite solutions'. 

And while your clear eyes remain, mine darken to match my brain. 

Because my feelings are so lost they can't walk in a straight line. 

And a mere pinecone in the forrest has become a memory of your lake.