no, i saw you stand when you felt
compelled by some substantial guilt
to flee the concrete stoop and spout
an equally unwieldy bout

that all was like your box  of bricks
subject to your picking and mixed
in such a way that the unknown
nature of your constructions grow

but no i say, you are opposed
in everything you say and know
for half is master of control
a thief, unlike romantic souls

that take things in pace as they are
swooned by  soldiers of every war
and consequently fated to
be affected, but always lose



this is how i bear with the glare
that flashes in those ever rare
moments where i see your muscles
twitch a smile at the puzzle

and yes, I cold be wrong.