No Halo

I remember trotting about as if I knew the game

The routine, being in a loop that never pays out

A poet or a pallet knife, I hear incessant calling

Intimate strangers we know all too much about

It wasn’t the darkness tracking me that itched

Nor the knocks on the stage door rattling me

Hardly the fault of every artisan’s imparting

No, this was a season unlike all before now

Innocence has never been at stake, not here

But all I see is a heavy bar, no longer climbing

Her inspiration, his tena...