On Speculating Difficult Meetings

What will I do if
I finally see you again
carved out of dream recesses
on to tangible roadsides
fashioned of brick and stone,
real as the pen that moves
on ruled paper, strategically

Starving, yet I stay at a distance
from scraps offered in peace—
I cling to my box of darkness,
grimmer than Pandora’s
a streak of pitiless ignorance
hides such deep torments Marquez

Where will I hide the box
if I ever found you waiting
on that tangible roadside
fashioned of brick and stone


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