You like to hide away 
Cuddled up by an imaginary fire
In your own secluded little tower
Made of old-smelling books
Pretending there is nothing more
Precious
Than what can be dug up 
Out of writing
You shroud yourself in a make-believe 
Cloak of invisibility
On the one hand grateful for the latest 
Ridiculous 
Almost religious trends  
Social distancing and online
Everything
As the perfect enforcers
For your head-to-toe 
Cover of mystery
You like to set yourself up as aloof
As if no one could ever truly get 
The real you
While secretly delighting in the self-inflicted 
Wound of isolation 
Never tiring of nursing it 
Faithfully
Around the clock
Your eyes affixed on the benefits 
It does not fail to yield
The most important of which being
That exhilarating feeling of satisfying 
Such a deeply ingrained craving for
Almost superhuman creative power
Or prowess
But see 
I am here to tell you  
This is not quite a fair game
Socially speaking
Given that while you strictly ration
To the point of mere crumbs 
Your taking part in the 
Hustle and bustle of the outside
And protectively 
Or cowardly 
Keep denying
Any overt glance to your den
You are also the one to find comfort in 
Dishonestly sneaking a peek 
Through the keyhole 
From time to time
Not having quite managed to abolish
That gnawing need 
For some sort of human 
Contact nonetheless
As any other breathing 
Man or woman
Feels
As a natural part of living
Whatever life may be

(2022)

Sursă foto: Million-wallpapers.com

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