The world has so far held its
Captive secret from me.
I am only but half slave half
Driver to the place where we
Will meet. And it will be there,

In dim light,
Enriched by dark wood motif,
When your eyes bounce and flit
And from that, follow and return
to mine, you will know that

I was once good and decent.
I’ll swear it, but found my health
In the children of false love.
From what I gave them I felt
A bit less than half empty.

Still look, look, look around.
Take in this madhouse.
A store of treasure, heaped together
Fatuous and hand-holding,
Slipping coin onto coin unto another.

I look, still, through their window,
Keeping half apart, do not worry.