The oblivious kind -

that you must be,
because of their eyes

that you don't see.
The conspirators that

plot with devices
who clearly show

the signs of a crisis.

Those murmurers that

gather about you,
whisper of doings,

but don't dare to 
You'r not privy 

to their machinations
nor would-be

secret invasions.
Their intelligence

that will be used, 
rebounds- and

leave them confused,
attempting to

steal away:
your looks and

the things that you say.
Those prisoners

(that your thinking takes)
are willing captors

(that your body makes)
But one turn of

each captive key
holds them fast

and never are free.

words and foto T Carroll