The speaker opens with a confession that sounds like a trade: "I traffic in doubt." The title, "Prevaricator," means someone who dodges the truth, so the speaker seems to admit that evasion is their business. Doubt is then described as "an altered state that I must not visit," which suggests a place the speaker is warned away from, perhaps because it's tempting or dangerous. The poem doesn't say why.
Then it turns inward. The speaker's own body was "the world I lacked most," a striking idea that suggests a sense of being cut off from physical, immediate experience, maybe because they live so much in their head. The last lines compare this lack to "a debt run / farther and farther up," and the unfinished ending makes the debt feel like it keeps climbing. The mood is wry but uneasy: guilt, distance from oneself, and a loss that keeps growing instead of being settled.