They’ve had their fingers burnt before,
pulling rabbits out of hats.
We stay hushed in the seams
supposing that’s the reason
they are demonstrating caution.

There is a rumor that somewhere
in the future there’ll be traps,
that, going forward, they are planning
to dismantle the architecture.

We hear decision dates spill by
and cabinets bulge with problems
awkward as the faces shelved inside.
Morsels are brought to the table,
seasoned talk of aims and agency.

We take stock, make fit our purpose.
In the half-light we ply and fathom
the building. We can never tell them
which treaty right we are exercising.