An Isolate’s Soul

The printer screen traced silver light, outlined

Your hair, your glasses, tacky broach and hoops

Found perfection in your impatient smile

And tortured music tapping through your boots

My spirit split from me when I saw you

Too loath to remain attached to the brain

That muttered about our sunny weather

Stuttered of crowded cars in subway trains

A soul which left a coward’s husk behind

To find a better world outside the me

Who waited without meaningful remark

To copy empty pages patiently

A soul now freed to whisper in your ear

The lyrics that always bubble over

When the staccato tapping of your toe

Rattles me out from under my cover

Perhaps our souls exist in that bright next

Where your impatience can be admired

Without the reluctance of the craven

Who asked politely when you’d been hired