I owe it to you
To requite without agenda
To hold not so close my secrets
To sacrifice those rustled lambs of leisure
To commit to do and to eschew the will to say I will
To confirm all paranoias are true fears from well founded reason
To apologise for a life led in limbo on the trail of a circle of breadcrumbs
To acknowledge and appreciate all surety and loyalty amidst unending uncertainty
But my pride is lions and they won’t let me from their den—so while they sleep—I slip out this kite