Crossing paths

I chatted her up today, making my way through the maze of small talk
Down the corridors of conversation; a two-way street.

Blue button down and tie, my mind wanders off the trail; deadwood cushion whispers.

You see, the small maze makes it difficult to turn the corner. I find myself at a dead end often. Far be it for me to disagree.

Sometimes it’s just best to wander in the flow.