Fortress Of Solitude by Julia Knobloch

My friend said you looked like a fucking twelve-year old.
Why bother? I said some people don’t age
because they are not ready. Some have good genes.
Some wait for the one chance they think they deserve.

I saw the man behind your young features,
when you looked up at the sun, squeezed your eyes, and smiled.
He was hiding in cold movie parlors, behind earphones
and apps, your even face the door bolt of his fortress.

I saw a man wanting to love and live in freedom
the everyday fancy of New York City,
or travel to unknown Caribbean beaches.
I sat behind closed blinds with him for too long.

I hoped I was the chance you thought you deserved,
the love for whom you would leave your ageless solitude.

Julia Knobloch is a journalist and translator turned project manager and executive assistant. Before moving to New York from Berlin, she worked 10+ years as a writer and producer for TV documentaries and radio features. Her essays and reportage have been published in print and online publications in Germany, Argentina, and the US (openDemocracy, Brooklyn Rail, Reality Sandwich), and she occasionally blogs for An emerging poet, she recently was awarded the Poem of the Year prize from Brooklyn Poets for her poem Daylight Saving Time.


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