you're making the rounds

you're making the rounds
searching for words
clues to where I keep
the keys of my
imagination

you have time
on your hands now that aging
has carried you to the last shore
—is he stealing,
can I trump him?—

the envy
of a new identity,
the terrible envy
of a new experience
drills a hole in your heart

and I wake
with the full expression
of joy
the blissful joy of knowing
you search me out

you search all of  me
for a clue and find nothing
but the original
inspired by your hounding…
come, listen to wolf howl 

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