Separated from the room by both a drifting mind and

a wall of unspoken seclusion,

I am a loner.

My exile is the penitence I pay for

being an enigma, a Gordian knot that only

the clever can cut.

The sun overhead peeks at me

through the window and spreads itself

across my desk and my lap, and

in spite of the cold, vindictive sneers

of my jackal peers,

I am content.