draft

Another Roundabout

Neither courage nor fear smite
Tears for they have no way to reach here.
Growing up meant

Boarding up, moving, no forwarding address,
No longer bunking with lies of childhood's tranquility.
Growing up, the formal introduction to joy,

Complicated and controlled
My own state-of-the art pleasure dome, a
High-secure facility I rule as Caesar.

What I'm admitting to is kidnapping
Possibly slavery, she cannot
Leave, take visitors, she's mine alone.

Muzzled and panting, joy heads my chariot,
Drags me round and round the pit-filled track.
It's just us two girls.

I laugh. Often.
This is my will.
This is my given.