There's a corner of my mind you own
and I don't want it back
but will always be aware
of where it's gone, who holds the mortgage
If it were land, only wilderness would do
Untouched, untrod places in my mind
Were it a house, a fireplace reflecting warmth
Soft wines and conversation, over candlelight
Your ownership treads lightly on my land
A moccasined foot that leaves no trail
letting me look back upon myself
to wonder, if you were really there at all
