fear of loneliness

the bedroom with the two brass bedsteads was empty
and i was all alone but not free:
there is a price to be paid
if you want to join in my captivity.
i am less neat than a folded plain white napkin
and have no trouble with solitary ways.
i come from humble origins but love food
and drink red wine on most days.
loyal to a fault i would follow you like a puppy
with my tongue touching the floor.
if you showed a serious interest in my poems
i'd sit you down, smile, and lock the door.
i'd sketch a watercolor on your skin.
i once preferred a woman with special looks
but physical qualities mean less to me
than a lady who admires her books.
it's certainly true that i'm a fool with time
and it escapes me how to watch my money
as one second it performs an act of contrition
and the next begins anew with something funny.
i want to touch and walk into the woods,
enjoy discussing events of our world's history
but there is a price to be paid
if you want to join in my captivity.