There are many rhymes

There are many rhymes
that stick in my head. 
Like raisin in bread
these phrases braise
in my melty mind
felt like the grind
of a tight bind 
where I find my 
self attached to a shelf
holding books by a look
to hook my brain to the pain
of this turning phrase, this
maze in which my mouse
reality sticks like trap to cheese
death to life
honey to everything
and I am a be,
see?