I have music, soft jungle light
through ginger leaves, azaleas
blue & scattered skies & books
about cheese, fungi, Lincoln & sex
a soft carpet with popcorn seeds
the colors of her mind & mine
woven into the fabric of the walls.
I have coins & candles, incense
toys & other peoples’ thoughts
puffing through my body’s fires
in the aching wait before sunrise
while the market steals and pays
my lifelong toiling at illusion
illuminating the vagaries of laws.
The twist of a word, acute glance
withdrawn hand gloved in silence
& paragraphs press in upon me
their beautiful distractions a comfort
after all, only mine to endure
and to cherish in these quiet times
a solitary journey with its solitary flaws.