The blacklight made your smile glow
as we walked though the makeshift tunnel
You asked me how I would know
when you might want or need a hand to hold
I handed you so long ago
a brass key into the new secure dingle
leading through the foundation
You suspected it unsound, un-tough chateau
I suspect that you’d never truly need that hand
Wanting now and then isn’t really so bad
I don’t think your foundaton is so strong either
I do hope, for your own sake, that it really holds.
