11th June 2020

I carry ever close to me
A gaudily printed metal box
Late property of my father
And his father before him
Secured unshriven
Within the folds of a knapsack
Gifted from my closest friend
Whose care I find unfathomable.

Within its bent and battered walls
 I keep a precious list of secrets
That I may reference on occasion
For those who seem quite worthy
To own, without prejudice
A morsel of my mortal soul.

I do not leave these contents ever
Within the scope of flighty feet
Venture as I might
From place to place
Country to country
Continent to continent
Seeking that which to date
I have never found,
Namely comfort
Human to human
Creature for creature.

Amidst the constructs of my mind
There is a steel wrapped door
Generally kept slammed tightly shut
To fend away unwelcome visitors
Unwelcome thieves who steal the dreams
So carefully chose for gilding there
To oft display as stark relief
Against whatever gloomy backdrop
Might be projected there
From out of honest memory.
My list of secrets has innumerable spells
Powerful incantations new and ancient
To cure all manner of illness
Disease or heinous injury
Each and every fetid wound
That riddles this our unfortunate society
That has departed
So completely and irrevocably
From any contract
With any recognizable God.

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