there are many
and hospitable buildings—
the kind to which
daily access is granted
to billions.
Then, there are those
slightly less
accommodating places:
a cramped, remote
fishing hut
built for one person,
or a cozy
but dilapidated
backwoods cabin
the roads to which
are passable only
in the dry season.
For each of us,
though, there is,
at the last,
that one immense,
distant, and
solitary castle—
with its fierce,
gilded towers and its
halls of frozen marble
all commissioned by our hunger—
which we were proud once
to inhabit
but, ever since,
have merely permitted
to secretly exist
without the slightest desire
or intent
to revisit.
