But like what?

I collect my thoughts
not like stamps placed neatly in a book nor quarters lined in order,chronological
                                                   but like
what?

Here's one:
It's gone.  Can I conjure?
 Let's see.
 Never use terms of 'we'.
 But I do, to talk
        of you and me.

There's, 'on friends' with 'reflections' and a 'night sky' all together
then there's
 'caught then and still'.

The water dripping
distracts
 but no, there it is.
                     It brings it back.
That simple movement of up and to
 and now I know but that was wasted and it's gone...
come back.
 I think I have it...
If I can silence long enough.

Is the brain betraying,
                     too amped up on coffee and it all?

This:

Words said,
enough;
written, superfluous but
    the much exceeds, spills
and sits till spoiled.

How to quiet the
                   tumult?  Tame the beast or name the beast?
                                       Eat, pray, love.  Could it be that simple?
                                                                             Brought to mind all that calms.