What did you want?
What more, what did you expect?
Fine sentiments, friendship, even love
All purchased.
Not from generosity
But ancient guilt
Of what?
You have no reason to stay,
Yet still the clay
Of you is damp.
An unfinished work,
Who the artist is
Irrelevant.
Remember
“He who the gods would destroy,
They first make mad”.
You knew that as a lad
No Perseus I see,
But you were bold.
A capacity to entertain
I love the way you lie,
Trying to make sense
Of the world.
What and who you loved
And what you hated.
We laughed and traded stories of you
Mere experiment.
