In my Greek pot, it was you more likely than not, I carried you around, occasionally put you on the ground, spoke to you, but like a leper's dream there was no reply, you were always there every time I said goodbye. But you called me, even tho' you never said a word, you were still there, the power awesome, quite absurd; I bought a dog, perhaps it was Phaedrus reincarnated, at least it didn't answer back, perhaps I should have waited. I needed company, needed history, needed less uncertainty, the dog had stripes all in order, just like the pot, I didn't know which one to speak to, sometimes I forgot; It was nearly time, an about-face, to find a resting place. I found a cave by the sea, the dog paddled along distantly, placed with a beautiful view, you were still looking at me.