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.