One Lone Wolf to Another

I like to be alone
Sometimes and to withdraw
From the enormity
Of a dystopic place
Past popularity
As from the populace
And freeze when others thaw
Into a world not known
To anyone but me
Into a place of grace
Where I can simply be
And the clock has no face
There where they are not free
To seize me by their law
Of forced conformity

Yet a life lived this way
Lived out of reach of touch
For day on day on day
Too little as too much
Might not quite satisfy
Without return to such
Familiarities
Of life as you and I
Have settled so to say
We scan with our fingers
Life written as in Braille
Where memory lingers
When other senses fail
And become memories
Of life then as we die

It might be better to
Just be alone with you

+Steven Curtis Lance



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