a thousand things
I don't pretend,
and a million things
I do.
Blind alleys,
rabbit trails, and
Northwest Passages
are my journeyways
and haunts.
"The truth shall
set you free,"
He says, but
I don't know where
I'd go.
Let me stay instead
in sweet, safe slavery,
content with dusting
around the baubles and trinkets
of my old master's house.
"No,
I can't.
I love
you
too much."
