tango on the terrace

I was lucky. I danced in ritual

with two personalities.

I was deranged, shyly haunted

by the figureheads of passion and talent.

No correlation.

There I was, seen but unaccounted for.

There I was, left to claim myself.

A luggage tag,

     "For My Eyes Only"

If I unpack, they'll see 

my eaten mess.