Palace Intrigue

hope is the last thing
I hope to forget.

Do you know how many
girls ask me about
the name on my arm?

Oh, that's an old monarch,
I say,
magical and matter-of-fact.

There are no good kings or queens.
Only beautiful palaces.
Declarative and distraught.
Delight and distraction.
Not always seen but suffused with wishes.

Oh, that's a character
from a book I am writing, 
I say,
which isn't untrue. 

The deep keep,
always elsewhere
ink of forever love
from a mute muse. 

After me, cometh the better builder.
Tell him I too have known. 
When the coast is clear,
I will still be here, untaken, unshaken.