in the dark,
the words seem to come so easily
but when faced with the too-bright-white of even my dimmed screen
they flee
like any rational person would when
the interrorgator’s spotlight
roams the voids
looking to plunder the riches
of thought and life
here,
in the glare,
I secret you close
though you be far-away-gone
hoarding you
re-collecting
again
again
again
you