And how you must think we are monsters,
Pawing and grabbing and drooling and
Chasing you back to your home and
Your cute room-mates.
Defending you from us,
The barbarians at the gate.
I am sorry, so sorry you are so pretty.
So blithe and lithe and shameless.
Vulnerable and hopeful. Calcium white.
I am sorry we have made you jaded
Made you grow a thick shell
To protect yourself from us.
You are right to cut with rusty shears
The line I threw to you.
In night’s silence, severance.
Your library a jumbled mass, a catalogue
of denial. Your only power, really.
Mine a single slim volume, about
The defense of lost causes.